Stargate: Project Mecha
by Follower38
Summary: For ten long years, the Stargate laid forgotten since the Abydos Expedition. For ten years, fate was denied. No longer. Now with new ideas and new technologies already in existence, fresh minds eager to explore and build, the bounties of the galaxy laid bare, that which was once science-fiction, will become reality. A Mecha crossover with Stargate. Full synopsis within.
1. Prologue: A Fate Delayed, But Not Denied

Stargate: Project Mecha

In 1994, deep under Cheyenne mountain, humanity gained access to the star through an alien artifact known only as the 'stargate'. An expedition was sent, in the hopes of opening up the galaxy to humanity and perhaps unlocking the treasures of the universe. What they found was not a benign alien race. Instead, they learned the truth of the pyramids and of the Egyptian Gods, of a history long since forgotten by all. Of conquerors that they had usurped millennia ago. They would take on this forgotten enemy, usurp his rule yet again, and destroy him with the very weapon he sought to turn against them. Returning to earth triumphant, yet fearful. The Stargate was sealed and locked away. Never to be used again.

It has been ten years since the three survivors of that expedition returned. Ten years, the Stargate has laid forgotten, the records of that expedition sealed away, the survivors reassigned or retired. But fate, will not be denied. War is coming to Earth's doorstep, in all that she is. And Earth need to look to both the stars and home to survive, for many weapons will need to fight this new war.

Prologue:

"A Fate delayed, but not Denied"

To the outside world, Cheyenne Mountain was nothing more than another missile installation. To those who knew their geopolitics, it was the center of NORAD, which watched the skies for danger from space. Little did they suspect that it's depths held a secret far greater than a mere nuclear arsenal...a secret so great, that its existence was known of by only a select few...

Sadly, it was also a secret that had also long since been forgotten by many of those that had ever been aware of it. Tarps and sheets covered most of machines and hardware that lay within the depths of the mountain's sole missile silo, concealing outdated and obsolete technology long ago slated for decommissioning. The capabilities of half of the ancient computers beneath the dusty covers had been surpassed decades ago by the average home PC. It was only because of bureaucracy that it had taken so long for the things to be removed from service, the orders having spend a quarter of a century under the mountains of red tape and paperwork so 'loved' by those in power.

In the largest room, where a single massive circular object was covered by yet another dust-covered tarp, a group of five marines were playing cards, doing their best to alleviate the boredom of what they all considered to be a punishment detail, having spent the last four months guarding the same room, day in and day out.

"Hurry up and deal the cards already, George." One of the marines cried.

"Sometime before the next shift would be nice." grumbled another after no reaction was forthcoming.

"Yeah, yeah, calm down. I'm dealing them out." Said marine grumbled, as he finished shuffling the cards and began passing them around, one at a time. "Derett, one day, I'm going to kick your ass."

"Oh, let me know when, I'll help." Another of the marines added, chuckling. "Alicia, you playing?"

The one woman among the five was holding the new assault rifle that they had just received earlier in the week. A SCAR-H, only started to be produced this year. "Yeah, I'm in." Alicia answered, not taking her eyes off the rifle. "Why would they give us something like this? I mean, if we were back in Iraq, I'd understand, but why here?"

"Hey, Lici, if they wanted us thinking about this kind of crap, they'd have told us." The marine said. "You calling or folding?"

Suddenly a great grinding noise came from the tarp that dominated the room. No...it was from beneath the tarp, the Marines quickly realized, as whatever lay concealed beneath the layer of grey-silver cloth began to move, disturbing its covering in a rain of dust.

"What's the-" Derret began. The tarp fell off, revealing what it had hidden for so long: a massive and complex stone ring whose surface was engraved with symbols. The inner track of the apparently seamless artifact was circling of its own volition, like the dial of a 1950s telephone.

"Defensive positions! Someone contact the General, tell him what's happening!" No one was sure who said it, but it didn't matter. All of them reacted the same way, grabbing their SCAR-H rifles, pulling back the charging handles as they took up cover positions around, not that the marines knew what it was, the Stargate.

As the inner ring of the great mechanism whirled around, it seemed to do so with a pattern. Every five seconds, the inner circle would stop, and one of the nine chevrons spaced at even intervals around the edge would slide inwards, as if locking into place, while a red light would flash to life inside the chevron itself.

"What's it doing!?" Derret cried, having to yell to be heard over the thunderous rumbling of the spinning ring.

"Hell if I-" George began to say, before the seventh chevron slid into place.

WIth a flash of blue light and a roar that sounded strangely like *KAWOOSH*, a substance like rippling water filled the ring and exploded outwards, producing and shimmering pillar almost fifteen feet in length, before retracting back into the ring and settling to form and rolling and relatively calm surface, like a pool suspended in a vertical position. Silver-white light peeked from every tiny ripple on the surface, filling the room with an eerie and distorted light.

"Holy-" Derret began, before the universe saw fit to interrupt him in turn. With a *GLURP*, a small bronze-colored sphere emerged from the wavering puddle of light and rolled down the metal ramp that led up into it. It landed demurely in the midst of the Marines, both ominous and somehow disappointing compared to the lightshow they had just seen.

Alicia, never taking her eyes or sights fully off the puddle, crouch-walked forward, and at a nod from her sergeant, lowered her weapon and picked up the sphere. It's surface was lined with white grooves and there was a small red 'eye' of sorts set into its surface, a glass aperture that looked dully back at her as she turned it over and over in her hands.

"Is this some kind of cosmic joke?" George said, giving voice to his thoughts. As if in response to his criticism, the universe responded.

The standing puddle rippled again...and out of it marched eight towering monsters.

That was what the Marines thought at first. It took them a second to realize that what they were looking at was a collection of what had to be men in what looked like chainmail and plate armor. At least...they might be men. Their enormous segmented helmets, equipped with the general shape of a flaring cobra with gleaming red eyes, covered everything. Their hands, which grasped tall, spear-like weapons with leaf-shaped heads, were obviously human, but that was all they could see of their flesh. Collectively, the group wasn't as imposing as they might've been if the people they were facing hadn't been trained soldiers, who thought they looked odd, and even a bit ridiculous because of the size of the helmets. However, one needed look no further than the two at the rear of the column the new arrivals formed to know they meant business. One wore the same armor as the rest, dull and grey, but was also equipped with a heavy shimmering cloak. He had an air of competence about him that radiated off him even in his strange costume. The other, presumably the leader, wore golden armor, and even from twenty feet away, at the other end of the ramp the Marines could feel the cold and insane presence of his gaze.

Alicia dropped the ball, stepping back to join her comrades, backpedaling towards them even as as she shouldered her rifle. Derret was the first to regain his wits from the sight. "Halt! Identify yourself!" He ordered, the serpent heads tilting in his direction.

The marines almost felt like these, things, whatever they were, were judging them. As though they were below them. Not taking kindly to such, the rifles were raised a tad higher, so as to aim for where the neck would be. Alicia aimed lower, below the waistline.

The serpent-helmet of the gold-armored member of the troupe snapped open with a whir, revealing the face of a man, his bald head covered by some sort of golden plate. "Jaffa, Kree!" They stepped aside, allowing him to walk forward, but still surrounded by his apparent followers. "Mel'tak tau'ri. Tor'vos gorra Apophis protan.*"

The marines didn't know how to react, glancing at each other, sharing confused looks. "What the hell did he just say?" Alicia asked

"Hell if I know." Derret answered. "Just get back, and get behind cover."

"Understood sir, I-" Suddenly, the gold one shouted, "Jaffa, kree kell'nok!" One of those in the front suddenly turned, bringing his staff down to point at one of the Marines. With a zap, the head of the staff snapped open, the leaf-shaped head splitting into four sections to reveal some kind of nozzle off of which tiny arcs of orange energy crackled briefly, as if charging up, before a golden bolt shot forth, streaking towards its target.

There was a sound like a small explosion and Derret flew backwards, a smoking crater occupying his chest. The fabric of his uniform had been seared black where it hadn't been vaporized. He gave a gasp, then let out a death rattle.

The death of their friend briefly registered before George shouted, "They're hostile! Open fire!" Thunder rumbled as the remaining marines cut loose with their SCAR-H's, 7.51NATO rounds tearing through the air, the plate mail armor successfully halting a few rounds, but the heavy rounds pierced through both plate armor and chainmail, and tore into the flesh beneath, carrying shrapnel from the warriors' own ineffective chainmail underlayer into the wounds while the tumbling rounds shredding the insides of their targets.

Without hesitation, even as their comrades died around them, the other serpent-headed soldiers lowered their staffs, their heads snapping opening as well before sending golden bolts of death flying from their muzzles. The first volley of shots narrowly missed the marines, tearing great chunks out of the walls like shots from an anti-materiel rifle..

Ejecting the spent mag from his rifle, George looked towards the gold-plated one, the obvious leader, and was shocked by what he saw: a golden barrier surrounding the gleaming figure, a look of surprised etched on his dark-skinned face. '_He's surprised. What did he think his guys were unbeatable or something?'_ he thought to himself.

That was the last thought that would run through the marines mind before another, much larger golden bolt streaked through the air and took his head clean off. The stump of his neck instantly cauterized, even as bloody chunks went through the air.

"No!" Alicia tracked the shot to where it had come from, the cloaked gray-armored one. Except this one wasn't carrying a staff, instead it looked something like a cross between a speargun and one of those staff weapons, with the speartip identical to the staffs. The cloak wearer was holding it like a stockless rifle. As she turned her aim on the killer, it beat her to it, drawing a bead on her and pulling the trigger. The last thing she would see was a white lightning bolt streaking towards her, then darkness took hold.

The one remaining marine, Donovan, horrified as he was at the loss of his comrades, only slowed down fractionally, his experience from a tour in the Middle East keeping him together. Seeing two of his comrades taken down by one individual, he aimed at the warrior with the cape, focusing his fire on the chainmail, around the plate armor. Two rounds found their mark, piercing clean through in a spray of red. Even as they pierced the chainmail though, the man drew the cloak across his body, the rest of Donovan's shots slamming against the fabric which seemed to react like a steel barrier, the rounds ricocheting off it.

A golden blast ripped through the marine's chest before he could even consider how a damn piece of fabric could stop bullets.

With his death, an eerie silence settled over the chamber. The air was thick with the the smell of burning human flesh, a scent that many people before and after had compared to roasting pork. If it affected the survivors, they did not show it. The grey-armored warriors cleared away the bodies of their fallen brethren to make way for their gilded master, who strode down the ramp and turned to face the Stargate while his second, still bleeding from Donovan's final shots, commanded his two surviving underlings to seize the body of Corporal Alicia, whom they frog-marched to stand behind their leader. The golden warrior raised his right arm and began to manipulate a complex set of gemstones and metal on his wrist, his staff resting in the crook of his left. With this, the Stargate began to spin again, calibrating itself for a fresh activation.

Ten minutes later, when General George Hammond entered the room with an escort of heavily-armed marines, he was just in time to see the men vanish into the new upright shining puddle, along with one of his soldiers. Before the group could respond to the sight, the puddle dissipated with a hiss of energy, leaving a dozen live marines, eight dead bodies and one very confused and angry General as the room's sole occupants.

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

On the far side of the galaxy, on a planet very much like Earth, at least in environmental conditions, a Stargate nearly identical to the one under Cheyenne activated and disgorged its cargo, which consisted of the four survivors of the massacre beneath the mountain. The man in the gold armor was the first to speak. His name, if he had indeed ever had one beyond the one his subjects knew him by, was Apophis, and as far as the majority of humans in the galaxy were concerned, he was a god.

"Jaffa, kree!" he shouted, his voice distorted and eyes glowing as the two surviving honor guard stumbled under their load. It was clear that one of them was injured. He must've taken a stray round in the firefight. Apophis scowled. He could not abide weakness. Of course, given that any show of mortality was weakness to him, he was often displeased by his soldiers.

Teal'c, his First Prime, knelt before him.

"What is your command milord?" he asked. Apophis felt the urge to kick him, to do violence to the nearest thing he could find. He had been expecting, at most, a collection of primitives with weapons no more advanced than bows and spears. The loss of such a large portion of his honor guard had enraged him. He had expected, at best, to loss only two of his guard. Not the debacle that the excursion had become. Nevertheless, he remained in control. He was not like those gods that would punish their loyal subjects for petty anger relief. Teal'c had been wounded in service for his god. The fact that his god had been hiding behind a personal energy shield was besides the point.

"These two will take the woman to my palace." he declared, then pointed to one of the pair, who almost flinched, fearing his god's wrath, which made Apophis smirk, "You will instruct my courtiers to maker her ready for examination by Amaunet. My queen demands a host with all haste!" The Jaffa bowed as best they could and then hurried down the stone steps in front of the Stargate, taking off up the path to their god's palace as fast as they could go with their package. It would not do to keep Apophis, the Celestial Serpent and Lord of the Night, brother of Ra the Great, waiting.

As they vanished from sight, Apophis turned to Teal'c. "You did well, my First Prime." he said. Teal'c sank lower on his knee.

"No milord, I failed you. Too many of your guard fell. I should have trained them better." he said.

Apophis laughed. "It is not like you to contradict me, Teal'c. Besides, they died in service to their god. They shall be well-treated in the afterlife." he said.

"As you say, milord." Teal'c said, not looking up. Blood was dripping from his wounds onto the stone. Apophis considered the sight for a while, his anger soothed by Teal'c's words and humility. He was always good at pandering to his god. Eventually, Apophis made up his mind.

"You are wounded. Come, I shall allow you access to my rejuvenation hall." Apophis ordered. "It seems that I am giving you many gifts as of late, my First Prime, though, perhaps it is only fitting, for all your years of loyal service to me and me alone."

He smiled as he saw, even downturned, the change in Teal'c's expression. He was clearly humbled by his god's generosity. It was for this reason that when he turned away, he did not even begin to suspect that on the inside, Teal'c was laughing. His 'god', for all his mad behavior, was sometimes so easy to play...

For years, ever since his old master Bra' tac had left on the last journey he would ever make, the quest for Kheb, he had been alone in his secret knowledge and certainty that the Goa'uld, the self-proclaimed 'gods' that ruled the worlds of the Milky Way, were anything but. He had served Apophis all his life, after Kronos had expelled his family for his father's failure in battle. In his rise through the ranks, he had learned, one experience at a time, that Apophis and his ilk were not omniscient, not omnipotent, and certainly not infallible.

It had started with the small things, acts to test the 'powers' of the 'gods' as it were; Small relics, a weapons shipment and even slaves up and vanishing from their midst, all of it perpetrated by the First Prime himself, to see if Apophis would find him out. Instead, his 'god' had delegated the task to him, to find those responsible. If his 'god' were truly that, he would not have needed Teal'c to find the answers. And for each event, he had blamed the Tok'ra, or those of his brethren who took too much joy in causing pain in the name of their 'god'. The first was an easy target, as they were like ghosts, and the items lost were just the sorts of things they would they would take. The second were as guilty as the false gods themselves in Teal'c's eyes, creatures that lived for exactly the kinds of work they so enjoyed.

Then of course, there the battles that he had commanded against his Lord's enemies, the other 'gods', both on the ground and in space. While he commanded his own troops with lethal efficiency, going so far as to break the form that all Jaffa were taught when young, he had seen the tactical and strategic mistakes, sometimes to the point of idiocy, made by Apophis. He had even provided false intelligence to Apophis to provoke him into fighting a losing battle. Later he would blame the misinformation of those loyal to Apophis and dangerously close to learning of his ploy.

Apophis had taken this misinformation and redirection as proof of loyalty of his First Prime to him and him alone, and in return, had seen fit to grant impressive 'gifts' to his First Prime. Unlike many of his fellow System Lords, Apophis was not content to simply use the same weapons and technologies that the Goa'uld had been using for millennia. Instead, he innovated, he created. Among many of these innovations were the first two gifts he had given. The first being the cloak, made out of an experimental thread using naquadah in its construction, it possible for it to absorb a direct hit, possibly two, for a Ma'tok staff weapon before it would be penetrated. And from evidence gathered by the excursion, able to withstand any small-scale projectile weapons as well.

The second had been the new Tel'tok, an evolution of the Ma'tok. The Tel'tok was his personal creation, and perhaps the first significant innovation in Goa'uld small arms in several hundreds of years. Smaller in scale, it was half the length of a Ma'tok staff, and used a similar trigger to a Zat'nik'tel. It was only slightly less powerful than a Ma'tok, but had the stun-fire capability of a Zat'nik'tel.

As the First Prime followed his 'Lord', his thoughts drifted to the primitives they had faced. Perhaps they would be the allies he had long been hoping for to appear.

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

Back on earth, deep in the backwoods of Silver Creek, Minnesota, one grizzled, aged former-Colonel of the United States Air Force was looking through a telescope, watching the stars above. He panned the scope through the constellation of Orion, not sure what he was looking for, but certain he would know it if he saw it, then realized the contradictory nature of the idea. He shrugged and leaned back in the easy-chair he had been using, reaching over to grab a beer off the nearby wood table. It spilled a little on the guide to constellations he had been using. Cursing, he did his best to clean the drink off before it sank in too much.

This was how former Colonel Jack O'neill now spent most his evenings, after a hearty meal and maybe, if it was Saturday, a game of Poker with the boys from the local law enforcement...when he wasn't working that was. Tonight though was a special night. Ten years ago today, he had gone on a mission that had changed his life. He had walked through an ancient alien machine to set foot on another world, where he had helped free and oppressed society of slaves and killed the Egyptian Sun God, or at least an alien that thought it was so. Not long after coming back, he had retired his commission from the United States Air Force as soon as he was allowed, no longer as driven by his suicidal tendencies and gifted with a new outlook on the universe.

He had expected that he would live out a boring life, he and his friends Kowalsky and Ferretti being the only ones still left on Earth to share that unforgettable experience. With September 11th, however, that had changed. America had been attacked, and despite his inner desire to fade away like MacArthur before him, O'Neill was not one to shirk duty when it called.

He had immediately tried to re-enlist with the Air Force, seeking his old rank and position again, only to be shot down, the recruiter and higher-ups citing his advancing age as grounds to deny his return to official service. Jack had seethed about it, knowing that it was probably more likely that they just didn't want to promote him, since the Abydos mission, if it were taken into account as a 'classified operation', would have been grounds for automatic elevation had he been allowed to return. None of the greenhorn officers wanted to be working under an old warhorse like him, fearing he would overshadow their achievements with his record.

However, he had let it slide, even though he had more than enough favors in store to get him in and get that promotion if he really wanted. His gut told him that he would need those favors sometime in the future, though. And it proved to be the right decision. In the years following that day, a shit storm of epic proportions in the Middle East had arisen and blown America's global reputation as a whole through the mud. Thankfully, Kowalski and Ferretti had already managed to achieve an honorable discharge before that point, with both refusing a second tour after hearing what had happened to old friend and former superior officer.

That wasn't to say that the three now former military, had been lounging around sipping martinis and guzzling bears the entire time. They had all signed on with a private security firm by the name of Gateway Guardians. They had actually chosen the company because, aside from the small size and relative honesty they unanimously liked the name. A relatively new company, they had a decent number of former service-men and -women, not to mention trained civilians on their payrolls, but they didn't have anyone like O'neill, either in terms of experience or rank. He had been hired five minutes into the first interview. However, rather than exploiting his abilities and asking for a major position, he had simply taken up the position of 'Chief Security Consultant', with some extra clauses that allowed him to partake in field operations should he so desire and train new recruits. Essentially, he would school the company in how it should act, while at the same time helping to instruct those under the company's employ in their code of conduct and the like.

He had used much of experience from the Abydos expedition to, for lack of a better term, beat into the employees' heads how they should treat the locals. This had paradoxically earned him the respect of many of his students, after their well-learned lessons ended up saving their lives several times, so much so, that it could be said that many would follow O'neill first, and the company policy second. They had played nice and been respectful when dealing with the locals, who had returned the treatment. However, there had been an unexpected side benefit of this. When private security companies began to come under fire by the press for their brutal and excessive actions in the Middle East, Gateway had actually kept its nose clean, fostering friendly and long-lasting relationships with the locals wherever they operated, with many of their employees going so far as to intervene when they found other PMC and regular military forces engaged in immoral actions.

As a result, Gateway Guardians had avoided almost all the media scrutiny that plagued their rival companies and actually gained many of their contracts as those who owned them migrated to the obviously better brand.. Kowalski and Ferretti had actually attained middle ranks within the company as well, but neither had wanted a position so lofty as O'Neill's. When Jack had asked them about this, they had both said that it just wouldn't feel right.

Jack often considered, especially on nice clear nights like this, how nice it was that his job also allowed him to work from home, when he wasn't training or at a meeting at least. At first he had been always on-site training and drilling the recruits, but after a while he had learned to delegate the job to those he trusted. Now he spent most of his free time at his cabin, fishing, stargazing and putting his barbeque to good use.

Like a patter of hail on a cloudless night, the sound of tires on gravel suddenly caught O'Neill's attention, dragging him out of a session of wondering how Daniel was getting along.

"Now who could that be?" He asked himself, seeing as neither Ferretti nor Kowalski had made any mention of coming up to his cabin any time soon. The pair visited at least once a month with a cooler full of steak, hot dogs and similar foods, allowing O'Neill to throw a generous barbeque for local friends. However, the last such meeting had been last week...

As he re-entered the cabin and approached the front door, he took a moment to check the H&K MK. 23 that he kept in a drawer of the small table that was the only furniture in his entry hall besides an umbrella stand that he never used because there was a scimitar haphazardly jammed in it, making sure it was there and loaded before setting it back inside and shutting the drawer in question.

He opened the door, making himself look nondescript by picking up his half-finished beer in one hand. Outside, two men and a woman in Air Force dress uniforms were waiting with very serious expressions

"Can I help you, gentleman?" He asked, then amended his statement to: "Sorry, ladies and gentlemen?"

"Colonel Jack O'neill, sir?"

"The one with two L's?" He asked, answering their question with a question. The most serious-looking member of the group, whose badge read 'Major P. Davis', nodded in affirmation. O'Neill nodded himself.

"There's someone else with the same name but just one L. People are always getting us mixed up." he explained. Major Davis appeared to ignore this statement.

"Yes, sir. General George Hammond sent us to retrieve you, sir." The one asked, answered.

"If George want to talk to me, he can come himself." O'Neill growled. He was old friend of the General, but they hadn't spoken in years, not since O'Neill had last been to the Pentagon after 9/11. Davis sighed in exasperation. He stepped back, intent of closing the door on their faces when Davis said,

"He said that it had something to do with the Stargate."

O'Neill's eyebrows immediately rose. If they had gone any higher, they might've slid off his face and into the sky.

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

Deep within the near mythical airfield/military base known only as Area 51, tests were underway for one of the many pet projects of the United States Military. As many times throughout the history of warfare, ideas that were seen as having even a modicum of potential use by scientists, designers and officers were put to research and design.

One of the projects being tested for the first time today was one that many, many people around the world thought that they could only ever dream of seeing. Standing in the center of a massive above-ground hangar, one easily capable of hosting an AC-130 Gunship with room to spare, was a machine with roughly anthropomorphic, or human-like, characteristics. To those that had built it, it was known as Project: Menschen Panzer, or 'the Human Tank', more simply called the M-Panzer. Standing at just under six meters in height and five meters across, it was almost comically proportioned. The chest, which also contained the cockpit, dominated the majority of its mass. Such a design would be decried by many, both inside and outside the military, as inefficient, bulky and ill-suited for warfare, proclaiming that whatever job it could possibly achieve would and could be done better by other units or designs.

Yet there was a method to the madness of those who had made it. They were big enough to admit that the aforesaid opposition had valid points, but proud enough not to let that stop them. The core of the design focused on multi-purpose adaptability, not specialization; it was a jack of all trades, and master of none, a unit that could be outfitted at a moment's notice for a number of tasks and environs, rather than waiting on a certain unit to be made ready. It was capable of going from an anti-infantry role, to anti-armor or anti-air roles, and back again on the battlefield as needed.

Still, there were many detractors, with very good reasons. As of right now, the project was purely in a prototype stage. Depending on the results of further testing, it would determine if more funding would be added to make such designs actually viable for mass-production and use. At currently less than half the tonnage of an M1 Abrams Main Battle Tank, it was slowly getting there. But even so, it was not viable for any sense of mass-production as too costly and inefficient with current means. Though it would lay the groundwork for potential future designs, however far off that future might be.

"Alright, someone check the power-cables again!" a balding man with glasses shouted out. "I know, I know, we've done it three times already, but lets just be sure. Again."

The man's name was Bill Lee, one of the chief-engineers of the project. He had been with it since it's inception, and as such, felt he had the biggest stock in making sure the thing got off the ground. Many of those present grumbled but went about the task anyways. Their complaints were only half-hearted as they all knew that Bill was a good guy and everything he asked for was just to be safe. Unlike a certain Canadian whose name was seldom mentioned, Bill was humble and not above admitting he was wrong.

As he watched them work, Lee muttered to himself, "Hard to believe we're finally getting mech suits..." The M-Panzer was just a slight change to the name of 'Wanzer' or "WanderPanzer", german for 'Walking Tank'. Lee had wanted to call it the Hulkbuster, but had been overruled on the basis of copyright violation. Besides, most of the components had been pre-assembled in Germany, where someone had apparently realized what they were going to be used for, or suspected at least, and had stamped on it; _Menschen Panzer. _Lee hadn't been able to get permission to have the words sanded off, and so the name had stuck.

Still, given that he was the leader of the first effort to build an armored robotic exosuit in military history, he couldn't really complain. No matter what Rodney said, it would be Lee's name that went in the history books. He allowed himself a smile at that thought, then hurriedly looked around in case even thinking the acerbic Canadian's name would somehow summon him.

Meredith Rodney McKay, (Though god help you, or have some citrus on your person, if you called him Meredith). One of the smartest people in Area 51,according to him at least, the man had arrived two years ago and had been a source of suffering for everyone around him ever since. He was asinine, selfish, cursed with a somewhat whiny voice and possessed of an ego that Bill thought must have its own pocket universe, given its size.

He had been the first to be offered the chance to work on the Project, only to reject it outright, saying that he better ways of spending his precious time than by "helping the bratty little fanboys turning their fantasies to reality." Only later to be scrambling for the offer again when he heard Samantha Carter would be working on the project as well, learning it was too late as Lee had taken his place instead. McKay was instead offered another project at Area 51, but he made it a point to 'occasionally' show up at the M-Panzer hangar and 'offer' his 'insight'.

"Insight, my ass." Lee muttered. "I'll weld it to the damn thing's chest before he ever says anything useful."

"Well as funny as it would be," A voice said from behind, "I don't think mounting your ass to the chassis is going to help at all." Lee nearly jumped out of his skin at the response, before realising that the sneaky Canadian was not the one who had spoken them…

As he turned around he saw his research partner, Samantha Carter, standing behind him, a little grin on her face.

"Sam!" he said in surprise.

"Hey, Bill." she said, her smile growing, "Just thought I'd stop by and see how things were going on this end…"

Sam was head of the one part of the M-Panzer that had yet to fully meet requirements. The suit itself had performed impressively in numerous tests so far, but always with a direct, physical link to an external power source. Sam's job was making a battery that could power the thing for at least twelve hours, which hadn't been easy.

"How are things in your department?" she asked, striding closer to take a better look at the looming metal giant. Bill tried to untie his tongue.

"We, uh, we've managed to get most of the mechanical issues out of the way. But uh…" Bill inwardly cursed himself, Carter was a beautiful enough woman as it was, but add her intelligence and she was just shy of being a goddess in the man's personal opinion. Mentally slapping himself and reminding himself that he was married dammit, he managed to continue.

"The Operating System is still going to be incredibly complicated. The IT department is working on it, and my team has simplified the controls to as simple as possible but as it stands, it'll be up to the pilot to program it. Outside of basic movement, this thing is-"

"Is going to have to be personalized every damn time it's used." Sam finished. "I was afraid of that. But you said that the mechanics were done?"

"Most." His mind shifting from dumbstruck to business. "The thing certainly needs as much maintenance as an _Avtomat Kalashnikova_ now, basically nothing aside from spit and polish. We were about to run another test to see if we solved the rest of the problems."

"Yeah, uh...about that." Carter said turning to him, her smile gone. Bill's heart sank.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to hide the groan in his voice. Sam's eyes flicked down to the ground.

"It's the batteries, Bill." she finally said, "We've tried everything. We even tried some experimental Lithium stuff like they're planning to roll out for the next generation of electric cars...but we just can't get it over six hours."

"The military will never go for that!" Bill sighed, "They said twelve hours or they cut the funding!"

"I'm sorry, Bill." Sam said, looking like she was trying to hold back tears. She had been with him through the whole project, and had sunk just as much sweat and time into it as he had. To know that it would soon be shelved...well it was heartbreaking.

"They've got me going to Cheyenne Mountain next week." Carter finally said, "They say there's something they want me to examine, some new piece of technology." Bill just stared off into the distance, the knowledge that he had failed now slowly crystallizing into the realization that Rodney would never let him live it down…

Bill's shoulders slumped as he asked, his voice defeated... "How long until you go?"

"A few hours, only came to tell you what was going on with my part of the project." Sam held out a hand. "If we don't meet again, Bill, it was good working with you."

Bill took it, "And it was good working with you, Captain." Deciding to use her rank for the first, and probably last, time.

As she walked away, Bill looked back at the towering robotic suit. He had come so close to changing the face of the battlefield...to realizing something humanity had dreamed of since it had stood upright: to walk with giants. With a final sigh, he followed Sam, deciding he might as well see if there was any cake left in the cafeteria...

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

For ten years, fate had been denied its course, with events that should have come to pass long ago stalling in the flow of history. Lives had followed paths they were never meant to tread. And now, it would no longer be denied. A history that should have been...shall be reborn in the footprints of giants.

*"Kneel, humans. Your god Apophis has arrived."

A/N: Well another story, another act of stupidity on my part by putting out another story when I have so many others that I am working on. Another Collaboration effort with a friend, as the title says, this is a story where a lot of mecha tech will be made, in the Stargate universe, from fiction, into reality. The amount of technology that they had access to, while they did make a lot of technology that was once thought science-fiction into science for them, there is so much more that could have been done. I also plan on turning their enemies into actual threats and as you can see by Teal'c's gifts, I plan on changing the technology across the board. The mecha will primarily source from four fictions: Gundam, FrontMission, BattleTech and Armored Core.

I am looking for original designs from any of these series by any readers, or a variant for certain series such as the BattleTech universe. A template will be sent to those who want one. Depending on what the response is, I may or may not continue this. Even disregarding that, I may or may not continue.

Everyone, please remember to read and review.


	2. Chapter 1: Secrets Unveiled

Stargate: Project Mecha

**Co-written with Eschaton Monk**

Chapter 1: Secrets Unveiled

"The problem with secrets, is that no matter how hard you try to hide them, they sometimes find ways to come out into the light."

-Unknown

Never in a million years had Jack thought he would return to Cheyenne Mountain, especially not after his military career had come to an end. The place was starting to show its age with faded paint and cracked concrete, but if the zones lined with plastic were any indicators, it was currently undergoing renovations. Furthermore, for what it was worth, the rooms he had seen years ago, on that fateful first step through the Stargate, seemed largely unchanged, with even the same enormous, ancient computers lining the walls with flashing lights whose purpose he had never worked out.

"So, what's with all the renovations?" Jack asked, "Never thought that anyone would be putting so much money into this place."

"Updated security measures, sir." Davis explained. "We're bringing things back up to spec, starting with the checkpoints." As if to prove his point, a marine, judging by his uniform, ran past with an M249 Squad Automatic Weapon over his shoulder.

"Updated, huh?" Jack retorted, though inwardly, he was somewhat worried as he saw another two marines jog past, this time with two M60s each. He actually followed them with his eyes, seeing as the M60s used the 7.62NATO, a full-size rifle round. You only saw them when you _really _wanted to put the the hurt on the enemy, in particular an enemy wearing kevlar. However, he'd barely focused on them when they vanished behind a big grey tarp with a sign reading 'Danger: Construction Zone' duct-taped to it.

"So when did these start?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets for want of anything to do with them.

"The renovations have been underway for some time." Davis replied, not missing a step as he answered. "The security updates are more...recent." He stopped in front of the medical bay. "General Hammond is waiting for you inside, sir."

O'neill nodded, then without pausing, stepping past the Major and into the room. "Hammond."

"O'Neill." The balding, slightly overweight man replied. "It's good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same." O'neill replied before glancing towards the cadavers in the room. "Who are the stiffs?"

"We don't know," Hammond replied. "but they came through the Stargate. Them and presumably several others."

"And they're not human." A nearby doctor, if his coat was any sign, added. "They have some sort of pouch in their lower torso, like a marsupial." At O'neill's raised eyebrow, the doctor clarified, "Like a kangaroo."

"Ah, and you said they came through the Stargate, you sure about that Hammond?" O'Neill asked, suddenly feeling worried for those on Abydos like Daniel and Skaara. Ra was supposed to be dead...hell, he'd seen the sky light up as the bastard was atomized.

"We are." Hammond confirmed. "This was all they were carrying, aside from their armor, which appears to be mostly chainmail." Davis now entered the room carrying, to O'Neill at least, a very familiar staff. "We haven't figured out to operate them but-"

Before the man had finished speaking, Jack took ahold of the weapon before tilting it down and holding it sideways, pressing the trigger on the center-handhold. The leaf-head snapped open causing everyone to flinch, energy crackling between the broken sections before snapping shut again.

"I can safely assume then, that you've seen these weapons before, Jack?"

"Yes, sir." The former-colonel answered. "They're the same weapons that Ra's guards had, a little simpler maybe, but the same." He glanced towards the bodies. "But there were no creatures like this one sir. Not including Ra himself, everyone me and my team encountered was human, Ra's guards included."

"And you're sure that Ra is dead?"

"Well unless he can survive a multi-megaton nuclear warhead blowing up in his face, I'm pretty sure about that."

Hammond nodded. "The other survivors of your expedition, Kawalsky and Ferretti said the same." Taking the staff weapon back from Jack, he handed it over to Davis. "Come with me, Jack."

Intrigued, he did, only to recognize the path as heading towards the embarkation room. As the heavy duty doors opened up, O'neill's eyes widened. On a remote trolley, directly in-front of the Stargate, was a nuclear warhead. A big one.

"Hammond, what's going on here?"

"We're sending another warhead through the Stargate, a Mark V this time. Many of the brass who have been informed of this incident, myself included, believe that these creatures could only have come from Abydos, as we've never been able to connect the Stargate to any other address." Hammond noticed the grimace on the former Colonel's face. "Jack, unless you or the others have something else to add to your reports, we have no choice but to send this bomb through."

Jack grimaced on the outside, but inside, he was twisting himself up in knots. Ten years ago, back on Abydos, the survivors of the expedition had made an agreement: that once the three returned to Earth they would claim that the Stargate on Abydos was destroyed as had all the people when they were forced to detonate the nuclear bomb and kill Ra. all in the hopes of letting the Abydos people live their lives in peace. After all, it was the least they could do.

But right now, if he kept his mouth shut, all of those people, Jackson included, would die. And he had gut feeling about these newcomers. Deciding that he would ask forgiveness from the others if he came to it, Jack spoke, "Actually,Hammond, there's something I need to confess…""

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

Back on Chulak, the days had resumed their usual calm and monotony for the populace after the return of their god, Apophis from his sojourn in searching for a vessel for his queen. While Apophis was busy choosing new members to replenish his Royal Guard from those on the planet, Teal'c was granted time to rest and recover, which he was grateful for, especially after the wounds he had incurred in the aforementioned sojourn.

"Those primitives...could they have been the fabled Tau'ri?" The First Prime asked himself, even as he touched the rapidly healing wounds on his sides. The two small holes had yet to totally disappear, and he doubted that they ever would. The local healer, if he could be called that, had pulled two metal projectiles from within the wounds after their ache had not ceased after the first night. They sat in Teal'c's palm as he contemplated their makers.

The Tau'ri; their existence was a well known legend, the world and people where the First had been found, he who had become the vessel for Ra. Their homeworld, the location of which was thought to be lost for millennia. Did Apophis not realize just what kind of treasure he had discovered. Passing it off as another primitive world...that would be just like his master.

Never before had he seen so many of his fellow Jaffa die in a single skirmish against so few. It might only have been four, but against many of the savage tribes and impotent warriors in the galaxy, four would have been enough to win many skirmishes.

"Master Bra'tac, I am in need of your guidance." Teal'c whispered, almost hoping that his old master would simply knock on the door to his quarters, but alas, they stayed quiet. Bra'tac was gone, having disappeared on his journey to find Kheb, leaving Teal'c all but alone to carry the mantle of doubt in the power of the sighed, staring at the two small shards of metal in his palm. They held promise...but also danger.

Teal'c had lived a long life by normal human standards. Though he looked barely thirty-five, he was actually sixty-two in Earth-years, which for a Jaffa was admittedly still young. He had done many things he was not proud of, and had fought in many battles he did not want to, for causes he had found unjust, yet dared not defy. Now, here, alone in his private chambers, a plan began to take shape in his head. It was bold...it was daring...and if it worked, it could mean the birth of a power that might make even the Gods take pause.

If it failed though...he would be dead by the end of the week. And that was if he was lucky.

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

Back on earth, the consequences of holding secrets was playing out in it's usual way.

"So you mean to tell me...that you _lied_ on your reports?" Hammond questioned, his face red with indignation, "All three of you?" The general's glower encompassed the three individuals before him, two of them still wearing their 'uniforms', having been pulled during a training session for Gateway Guardians.

"Yeah, so what of it?" Ferretti shot back. "The freak was dead, so were all his goons. So we decided to fudge the reports so that the locals could have some peace and quiet instead of us barging in on their doorsteps!" The three expedition survivors were of the mind that once that the military had learned of the 'miracle rock' as they labelled Jackson's alien mineral, they would send another, much larger expedition, along with mining crews to strip the planet of the material. Heedless of whatever their work did to the locals.

"Even so, it seems that your efforts were misguided." Hammond replied, unphased. "These aliens, whatever they may be called, came through the Stargate, and based on your reports, if the rest of it is true, then Doctor Jackson and the locals are all likely to be dead."

"And I won't believe for a moment Jackson's dead until I see his corpse myself." Kowalski crossed his arms. "O'Neill saw him die, but he was up and saving our asses a couple of hours later."

"So what do you propose then?" Hammond asked. "I won't send a team to see what things are like on the other side of that gate if these aliens are what they can expect on the other side."

"We won't have to." Jack said. Without anymore preamble, he stood up and grabbed one of the two boxes of tissues on the table, he hesitated for a moment before grabbing the second one as well.

"Jack, what are you doing?" demanded the general. He sounded like he was refraining with difficulty from calling him Colonel, clearly not used to dealing with Jack in his civilian state. He had never known O'Neill as anything other than Colonel O'Neill, back when they had both been soldiers.

"George, dial up the gate. These things will tell us if its safe." Without further explanation, Jack descended to the control room below, ignoring the General calling for him to get back there.

"You can't court-martial him anymore, sir." Ferretti said, causing Hammond to finally throw up his hands and follow the former Colonel down to his destination. He found Jack writing on the back of the first tissue box with a felt-tipped pen he had grabbed from a nearby table. He held it up for Hammond to see. On the back, the words, "Courtesy of Jack. How you doing?" were written in a heavy-handed cursive script.

"Turn on the gate, George." he said. Hammond looked at him, his eyes full of understanding, but also of suspicion. Jack rolled his own eyes in response.

"Tell you what, I'll wait for you to get that nuke ready. All I ask is that before you send it, let me toss this through first. What have you got to lose? If I'm wrong, which, by the way, I seriously doubt, you're out one box of tissues. I don't think Uncle Sam is going to throw a fit over having to cover the expense of a box of hankies."

Hammond resisted the urge to shoot the ex-Colonel, reminding himself of the paperwork that would follow. Seeing little choice, he agreed. "Alright, you got your chance, Jack."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

"Chevron one: encoded!" announced the man operating the majority of the systems in the control room. Jack rolled his eyes. If he was going to do that every time, they'd be here all day. Alas, it turned out he really was going to do that. Slowly, the inner ring of the gate whirled around, it's lights illuminating one by one as the chevrons locked into place. Next to him, Kowalsky leaned over without taking his eyes off the gate.

"Funny, never thought I'd see this a third time…" he muttered. Jack had to agree. He'd only ever seen the gate activate twice, once on Earth, and once on Abydos.

"You mean fourth, but yeah, same here." Ferretti added. "I thought that coming back would be the last time we saw this thing in action."

"Chevron two: encoded!"

"What about you, Kowalski?" Jack asked "You looking forward to it?"

"Chevron three: encoded!"

"You mean walking through an upright puddle, feeling like a mariachi band is in my gut and then coming out the other side looking like I just hiked through Siberia?" he responded, sarcasm heavily lacing his words, "Oh _yeah, _I'm _really _looking forward to that."

"Chevron four: encoded!"

Jack sniggered at the thought, despite the fact that it was a pretty decent summation of how walking through the 'puddle' did feel.

"Chevron five: encoded!"

"Hey, Jack. I just had a thought." O'Neill looked towards Kowalski, "What if Jackson really is dead, and those aliens actually came from Abydos?"

"Chevron six: encoded!"

"If he is dead, then I won't have issues shoving down another nuke down the throats of the bastards who killed him." He replied icily.

"Chevron seven: Locked!"

The last light on the Stargate flashed to life, and for the second time in barely a week, after decades of silence, the interior of the great stone ring filled with the vortex of a forming wormhole, a fresh column of raw power exploding outwards with a *KA-WHOOSH*. To Jack's eternal amusement, everyone in the room except Kowalsky, Ferretti and himself flinched backwards at the sight, before the writhing tower of energy collapsed back into the silvery surface he had seen and passed through ten years ago. With a casual air belying the magnitude of the situation, O'Neill strode forward, Kleenex in hand. With an brief overhand throw, he pitched both boxes of tissues through the event horizon, hoping and praying that it would get a response. Moments after the passed through with a ripple on the calm surface of the wormhole, the light flickered out, the puddle dissipating into nothing with a hiss. Jack sighed and turned back to the control-room window. Hammond leaned down to the microphone installed in the control console.

"Now we wait five hours. After that, we send the bomb." he announced. Jack's face was placid, but under the surface, he was as tense as a knife. He had no idea if this was going to work. Jackson could have died of some alien disease years ago, and he was just chucking disposable handkerchiefs to a ghost who wasn't there. All he had was hope.

As fate would have it, his hope was quickly rewarded.

He had barely made it to the end of the ramp when suddenly and without warning, the lights of the Stargate flashed to life, seven chevrons locking simultaneously.

"INCOMING WORMHOLE!" shouted the man at the controls. Jack scurried out of harm's way as a fresh *KA-WOOSH* pronounced the formation of a new path between worlds. He turned around to face the puddle, ready for anything. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, every soldier there besides himself and his friends aiming their weapons at the shimmering pool. It was therefore somehow both amazing and amusing that their fear was answered with a demure green box, which toppled out of the event horizon and rattled emptily down the ramp. As the wormhole hissed into non-existence, Jack bent down and picked up the box.

The tissues had been hastily ripped out, leaving a gaping hole in the top, on the back, in a hasty scribble of what seemed to be liquid ink made from literally all-natural ingredients, were the words 'THANKS, SEND MORE!'. Jack wanted to whoop with joy, but instead deferred to his inner prankster and maintained a calm demeanor as he turned around and held it up so the General could see the text.

Hammond sighed, admitting defeat. Stepping up to the console, he took ahold of the mike, "O'neill, get your ass up here. We need to talk."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

"You want me to what?!" Jack stuck a finger in his ear, getting rid of the 'blockage', as he was sure he couldn't have heard right. "You mind saying that again, George, because I think I must be going deaf."

"You heard me right, Colonel, I'm reinstating you in the military." Hammond repeated. "We can't allow a civilian, even in the private security world, be allowed to travel through the Stargate or even know about this program. In fact the only reason you and the other two know about this is because you already did."

Jack crossed his arms. "I might be getting old, but I distinctly remember being rejected for reinstatement because of, how did they put it, 'geriatrics with erectile dysfunction isn't command material'." Leaning back into his seat, the former Colonel continued, "Not to mention I already have a life and job, not to mention Kowalski and Ferretti as well."

"Well that what do you suggest?" Hammond all but demanded. "You three are the only survivors of that expedition, and since what little signs we have point to Doctor Jackson being alive and well, requires your presence on the other side. And since this will be a military operation, we cannot allow civilians."

"Set up a contract." Kowalski answered from his seat. As the uniformed gazes present homed in him, he added, "Uh, I mean, Jack does have the power in the company to create contracts for Gateway Guardians between the company and its employer. So officially, we're government contractors and its on paper at the company. Uh, classified and redacted, of course." He hastily added to the looks he was receiving.

Hammond sighed, feeling like he was going to regret this. Still, he needed the trio's assistance, and frankly, this seemed easier than trying to deal with the politics of forcing them back in. "Very well then, we'll draw up the contract at a later date. For now however, I want you meet your team, including our resident Stargate Expert: Captain Sam Carter."

"With all due respect, George," Jack interrupted, "but I have a team of my own to call. Though I will take any gear you can offer."

"Not for this mission, O'neill." Hammond rejected, "We don't have the time to waste getting whoever you want, their equipment and bringing them up to speed. For now you'll take the team I tell you, we can negotiate later."

"Alright then, so who is this 'Sam'? and where's he transferring in from?" Jack asked the air.

"_She_ is transferring from Area 51." said a tall, slim blonde woman with short-cut hair and an Air Force dress-uniform as she stepped out of the shadows. She strode over to the table with a very satisfied look on her face.

"I take it you're Colonel O'Neill?" she asked, before saluting, "Captain Samantha Carter reporting, sir!"

"Former Colonel." He corrected, "Drop the salute, Carter. I'm private security."

"Not for this mission, so I've heard." she answered, "Technically you'll be my superior for this op."

"So you go by Sam?" Kowalski asked, his expression one of mild amusement. He hadn't served with many female officers, coming from a time when they had been rare in the Air Force. The same was true of Jack and Ferretti, and so they were both surprised and slightly uneasy about having a woman on the team.

"You don't have to worry, sir. I played with dolls when I was a kid." Carter said, bouncing his subtle mocking tone back at him.

"G.I. Joe?" asked Kowalski, giving her smirk.

"Major Matt Mason, actually." she responded.

"Oh?" Confused, Kowalsky looked over at Ferretti, who was married and had a kid, and was therefore more likely to know what this meant. He grinned back at the Captain.

"Major Matt Mason; astronaut doll. Do you have that cool little backpack that could make him fly?" he chuckled.

"Let's get started." Hammond said, cutting through the gender politics with authoritative tone.

"Well to start with," Ferretti began, "What makes you qualified, Sammy?" The captain glaring at the former serviceman in irritation.

"If that's because I'm a woman-"

"Hey, I'm not saying that." Ferretti interrupted. "I'm married, so I know how pretty terrifying you ladies can be. But Area 51, isn't that where all the brainiacs usually work? Research and all that?"

"I'm not even going to ask how the hell you know that." Hammond said before Carter could, "but the reason that she is here is because she is the most knowledge person about the Stargate, even you three, since she actually studied the device."

"Well then," Kowalski picking up for his cowed comrade, who gave him a look that said, 'Don't do it, man, you're going to regret it', asked, "How much combat experience do you have? Rear-Echelon shit don't count, I'm talking frontline. This isn't going to be a babysitting operation."

"Before my transfer to Area 51, I served as an Apache Gunship pilot during Operation: Iraqi Freedom, providing close-air support, in addition to having ground escort duty for officials when I was ordered. Before that I logged over a hundred hours in enemy airspace during the Gulf War." She listed off. "Do you want my kill count as well? Or should we want to spar instead?"

Kowalski opened his mouth...then shut it again. Jack just grinned. The man always had been a bit of a fool when it came to women in uniform…

"Frankly, Jack, she's been here all of three days and she's already telling us things about the Gate our best and brightest couldn't figure out during the whole decade it's been sitting here. You'll need her, whether you like it or not." Hammond said.

Jack sighed, first he had cornered Hammond into doing as he said, and now it was happening to him. '_I thought Karma was supposed to take a while, not be instant.' _Still, at least if he brought her along, she wouldn't be useless in a fight. "Alright George, fine, I'll take her. But at least let me get full access to your armory. How soon do we go?"

"You've got four hours to prepare your gear and rendezvous in the Gate room. Once you pass through, you'll have approximately twenty-four hours to either return or send a message. Once that time passes, if we haven't heard back, the Mark V will be sent after you." As he rose, the others coping his movements, he added, "Oh, and no kleenex messages, Jack. Dismissed."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

"Alright everyone, check your gear." Jack ordered, even as he shifted the gear he was wearing so as to be more comfortable."And,start up the dialing!" He ordered. Back up in the control booth, at tehnician began the sequence. The equipment that everyone wore was similar to that which marines and army troops over in Iraq were currently equipped with. In fact, one could almost mistake them, on gear alone, for being marines or army. All that is, except their weapons.

"Chevron 1: Encoded!"

"Damn Jack, did you get a feel for these weapons?" Kowalski asked, not bothering to hide his interest in the SCAR-H that he had selected from the armory. "7.62NATO? Think we can requisition some of these for our company?"

"Chevron 2: Encoded!"

"Don't bet on it, Kowalski." Jack answered, even as he watched over the others of his team check over their own gear. "These things aren't cheap, and I doubt Gateway will make these standard. Course, you can buy one yourself."

"Chevron 3: Encoded!"

"Well he probably can, being the bachelor." Ferretti joked. "I don't think the missus would like if she saw a nice big bite out of our wallet."

"Chevron 4: Encoded!"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. Least I don't have a ball and chain tethered to me." Kowalski joked back. "What about you, sir? You okay with that relic?"

"Chevron 5: Encoded!"

'Those' that Kowalski was referring to the G3A3 rifle that O'neill had picked out. For a numbers of reason, the first was the caliber, 7.62 NATO, same as the rest. Another was that it was one of the weapons that the expedition had brought with them on the first trip to Abydos.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Jack answered.

"Chevron 6: Encoded!"

"Hey, you think any of the kids will be there?" Kowalsky asked. He was of course, referring to the group of adolescents who had took up arms to help O'Neill and his team fight Ra and his bodyguards, despite the fact that their enemy had command of the air and superior weapons.

"If they are, they're not kids anymore…" O'Neill chuckled. He recalled the one boy who had followed him around like a son, asking questions and generally getting himself into trouble. For a while, O'Neill had felt like a surrogate father, which in a way had made leaving all the more painful. Seeing Skarra again, after all this time...what would that be like?

"Chevron 7: Locked!" declared the man in the control room. O'Neill swore he was going to find out his name when he got back, and then find out whether or not protocol actually required him to declare every chevron as it locked. It was annoying, and if he was going to go through this thing on a regular basis, he was not going to put up with it…

As the event horizon formed in a fresh *KA-WOOSH*, Kowalsky and Ferretti marched up, followed by their men, disappearing through the rippling surface with a series of squelches. As Jack came to stand in front of the upright pond, Carter came to stand beside him, her eyes wide with shock and amazement.

"This is incredible!" she said, "I mean, the power required to create and maintain a stable wormhole...it must be phenomenal!" She reached out and tapped the eddies in the pool of blue light.

"You can actually see the fluctuations in the event horizon!" she marvelled. Realizing that if he didn't intervene, Carter would probably stand there all day, Jack took the initiative and all but booted his awestruck companion through. Her yelp of surprise was abruptly cut off as she fell in. With this done, Jack stepped through himself.

The experience was just as he remembered. At first there was only the cold blackness, and then suddenly light, speed, his body rushing forward, lighter than air as if he were a cloud being blown by a gale force wind. Stars rushed past with the speed of bullets as he hurtled forwards, guided on rails he could not see, but could feel, faster and faster until one light filled his vision and he was ejected back into reality, feeling like he had just been through a blizzard, naked.

Hearing a gagging noise, he looked down to see the Captain on her stomach, getting to her knees and dry-heaving. Whether it was from the sand that she had face-planted into, or the Stargate's instant-freeze, he wasn't sure. He made a note to get her some of the mess hall's pudding later as an apology.

He soon realized that the room was full of groaning from the Special Forces, or SFs, that had come through with Kowalski and Ferretti, both of whom were looking green, but were at least standing up straight.. "You'll be fine. It passes." O'Neill reassured them. "Eventually." A few of the SFs glared at him, despite being hunched over as they tried to stop the dry-heaves.

"How the hell does he do it?" Kowalski whispered, pointing at Jack. "I mean, look at him." Out of all them, Jack had been affected the least by the wormhole. Aside from the thin layer of frost coating him and everyone else, he was unphased.

"I told you man, Jack ain't human." Ferretti commented before looking into the chamber. "Well, this is cozy."

At which point the sand lining the floor stood up and pointed guns at them. Clicks and clacks echoing in the chamber as the SFs and Carter snapped up their own guns, aiming them at the supposed hostiles. A classic Mexican standoff, except for how the Abydos survivors were just watching the standoff, Kowalski and Ferretti trying to suppress their grins and snorting.

"Stand down everyone." Jack ordered. "No need to start shooting up the locals." A few rifles were lowered, but several were still raised. "I said '_Stand Down'._" This time all of the rifles were lowered. "Much better."

Looking among the faces, he tried to spot any familiar ones. Some did look familiar, but ten years later plus the desert, meant that all of them might as well have been somebody else.

"Cha-hari!" came a cry from the far end of the room, and as Jack turned, a ghost stepped out of the doorway at the far end of the chamber.

Daniel Jackson had aged remarkably well for someone whom Jack hadn't seen for nearly a decade. His features had been sharpened, partially by the sand and harsher lifestyle of the locals, which appeared to have put some muscle on his formerly scrawny frame. He still had his glasses though, and unlike many of the other people in beige and tan colored clothes, his hair was cut short rather than braided. His eyes still had the look of a man seeking answers though, that certainly hadn't changed.

"Hey Daniel." Jack called out cheerfully. "How you doing? You mind getting these guns off of us?" He pointed at the guns in question, even as Daniel was going around actually forcing some of them to put them down.

"Tek'ke ka, Jack." Daniel walked up to his old friend, throwing the sleeves around as he spoke. "Qor te ru? Tere... lo'to pas te?"

"Uh, Daniel, I don't speak that much Abydonian…" Jack said, thrown off by the hug.

"Ko, uh, Sorry…" Daniel said, quickly pulling back, "It's just...I haven't spoken English in thek, sorry, three years. The others weren't all that interested in learning it…"

"Ah." Jack replied, looking around. "So you tried teaching them for seven years…"

Daniel was about to say something when Jack heard a familiar, but deeper, voice suddenly call out. "O'Neill!" A new figure filled the doorway, with deep black hair tied into many braids, some of which went down to his shoulders.

"Skarra?" O'Neill asked in shock, before being wrapped in a bear-hug by the laughing man. The youth O'Neill had fought beside ten years ago was barely present in the current man holding him. His skin was dark with years of suntan, and his face scarred and weathered much like Daniel's was, cut by the sand into a visage with a firm jawline and yet at the same time, kind eyes. "It's good to see you too, but damn! What have they been feeding you?" Jack finally managed when the bear hug broke off.

"It is very good to see you." Skaara said in perfect english. "I had hoped I would see you again. But I did not think it would be so long."

"Yeah well I, wait. When did you get so good at speaking English?" Jack questioned. "Last time we spoke, you were still butchering half the words you were saying, and mixing in Abyodian."

"Daniel taught me, though I have not used it much. Many of my people are not interested in learning your speech. Still, some of us know your ways. We hoped they would help if you came back." he said, grinning broadly.

"Well we might actually need that help." Jack smiled at the grown up youth before turning to the reason he had come back in the first place. "Daniel, we need to talk."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

A/N: Well readers, what do you think? As you can see, I'll try to follow canon, but expect much of it to be thrown out as well. If anyone is military, was, or is extremely knowledgeable about it, I apologize if I flubbed any of it. I know more about military history and technology, but I never was, or will be, in the service.

Leave me a review and let me know what you think. What you like, what you disliked, and of course, any suggestions for the future. But please, don't be pushy about it. No one has been for this story yet, but I recall reviews and PMs for other stories where 'requests' felt more like 'demands' for me.

In the words of Frankieonpcin1080p, "I'll see you all, in the next chapter."


	3. Chapter 2: Information and Contracts

Stargate: Project Mecha

Co-written with Eschaton Monk

"Gateway Guardians remains one of, perhaps the only, private security organization whose reputation has not been blackened and mired by scandal and criminal behavior. This has been credited by many due to several factors. The most predominant of which are its CEO and Founder, whose strict criteria and zero-tolerance policy regarding its employees have resulted in the most exceptional of employees and the rapid defamation of those who violate its policy."

-Excerpt from News Article: "Private Militaries: Honest Security"

Chapter 2

Information and Contracts

"So, what did you want to discuss?" Daniel asked. They were in the main entry hall of the pyramid, not far from the Stargate. The majority of the team was either getting to know the locals, with Skarra's help, or assisting in setting up a small camp, in case they were going to be there for long.

"Well, for one thing, I just wanted to double-check that Ra is dead." Jack said. Daniel gave him a bewildered look.

"Yes, Jack, he's dead. He had a nuke go off in his face. You were there."

"So he hasn't come back?" Jack pressed. "No space magic voodoo?" Daniel began to look worried.

"What's this about Jack?" O'Neill sighed, grimacing in discomfort.

"A couple of days ago, a group of men came through the Stargate back on Earth. They killed four of our people, took one of them prisoner. We thought they came through here."

Daniel brought his sleeves together as his eyes narrowed. "Okay, I understand why you guys came here, but why did you think Ra was still alive?"

"Those ones who came through, they had the same weapons as Ra's guys. Their armor was almost the same too." Jack explained. "Same sort of collapsible helmet, except it was a snake head instead of a bird head."

Daniel waved his hand around. "Well I can tell you this, they didn't come from Abydos."

"Well then where did they come from?" Jack asked.

"Well I-" Daniel started only to be interrupted by a face he didn't recognize.

"They had to have come from here."

"Uh, who are you?"

"Captain Samantha Carter. Air Force. I've read all your notes Doctor Jackson, most impressive."

"Thanks...but why did you interrupt me?"

"Because I took over the Stargate program after your expedition. They apparently tried dialing a number of permutations, all with Earth as the point of origin. They never made a connection, so it was assumed these two gates are the only ones in existence." Carter explained.

Daniel's face changed several times over the course of three seconds. There was suspicion, followed by self-doubt, and finally resolve.

"Come with me, I think this is something you're going to want to see...and it could be an answer to that question.." he said. Jack held up a finger.

"One sec." he admonished before looking over his shoulder and shouting, " Ferretti! Kowalski! You hold the fort! Keep an eye on the Gate!" His friends nodded and replied with a 'Yessir!'.

Half a minute later, O'Neill, Carter and three of the SFs they had brought were descending a stone staircase with Daniel leading them, carrying a torch he had picked up at the top. He had lit it using a match provided by O'Neill, which he seemed overly grateful for, and now he carried it ahead of him as they descended into the darkness, When they finally reached the bottom, he used the burning stick to light a brazier set on either side, the flames blazing to life and lighting up the chamber.

"Whoa…" Jack and the others were awed by what they saw. Massive statues lined the walls, with the walls themselves completely filled by glyphs and symbols.

"I found this place about three months after you guys left." Daniel explained, continuing deeper into the room without looking back, all the while lighting more braziers as he went. Jack approached one of the walls, squinting at the lines of alien symbols that filled them from floor to ceiling. They didn't look like any hieroglyphs he had ever seen, not that he was an expert on the subject. He did however detect a pattern. The symbols were divided into columns, stacked vertically like Chinese Mandarin, and every seven symbols, there was a horizontal line, dividing them into seven-character sequences. Carter was the first to figure it out.

"Gate addresses? These are ALL Gate addresses?!" she asked in shock

Daniel nodded. "They all match the symbols on the Stargate, I figured it out once I realized that all of them had the same, final symbol. The point of origin for Abydos. But I haven't been able to make any of the address work."

"So...basically this is an outdated phonebook?" Jack asked. Daniel nodded.

"So what does this do for us?" Jack asked, after a few more seconds of staring at the thousands of alien constellations imprinted on the walls.

"Well, the way I figure it, these had to have worked at some time, otherwise why go to all the trouble of carving it in stone?" Daniel stated, "I mean, an actual phonebook only gets outdated because the numbers get moved around…"

Suddenly Carter's face lit up. It was like the sun shining through an overcast sky.

"Sir, that's it!" she cried.

"What's it?" O'Neill asked, bemused by her outburst.

"The reason the addresses don't work! It's because the places they go to have moved!" There was a blank silence, before Carter apparently realized that this would need some dumbing-down.

"See, the expanding universe theory states that all bodies are constantly moving away from each other as space expands, not to mention that everything in the universe is in motion anyway. Our galaxy is set to merge with the Magellanic Clouds for that very reason; gravity pulls everything around."

"Stellar drift!" Daniel said, comprehension washing over his visage.

"Right, so presuming the Stargate relies on fixed constellations to mark it's destinations, those markers may be invalidated because the destination is no longer in the right place." Carter continued.

"So it's still useless…" O'Neill said, trying to keep up.

"Not necessarily, this cartouche gives us a big head-start. If I can find out what stellar bodies these addresses used to go to, and then correlate with known patterns of stellar drift, then we should be able to make ourselves an updated copy that works!" Carter explained.

"Sounds like a lot of math." Jack commented. "Alright, assuming you two are right, and you can do all that, how did Ra's little brother dial earth? Somehow I don't think the custodians are running around and keeping the other phone books up to date."

"Maybe it's that device in the gate room." Carter supplied. "If there are as many Stargates in the galaxy as those addresses suggest, then those devices all must contact and update each other every so often to adjust for the stellar drift. There wasn't one at Giza, so our Stargate probably still has an outdated database, with Abydos being the only destination that's still close enough to dial. Their update abilities must have limits as well, if Doctor Jackson couldn't dial the others."

"Well I used the cartouche as my reference." Daniel admitted, "And the cartouche certainly hasn't been updated for several thousand years, " He chuckled. "I was calling wrong numbers the whole time."

"So what does this mean for us?" Jack asked, turning to the blonde physicist. She puffed out a breath and looked around.

"To catalog this? I'd say a while, sir. And that's not accounting for the time it would take to make a program to update each address once we had them digitized.""

"And then we'd have to search each one…" O'Neill mused. This was looking more and more like a job that was going to turn into a career…

"Did anyone else hear that?" Daniel asked suddenly. Jack looked back at him.

"Hear what?" he asked, before he too heard it: a distant staccato like someone using a jackhammer, suddenly cut off. He looked up.

"Oh, hell…" he muttered. "Everyone back to the gate, now! Double time it!"

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

To Jack's credit, the ascent took half the time of the descent, and he never once stumbled. He was the first to the top, moving at a dead run. It didn't matter though. By the time he got there, it was too late. He was just in time to see the last silver-armored snake-headed soldier march through the gate. In anger, he raised his rifle and fired into the puddle, hoping the bullets would be carried across the stars and maybe land a few hits on the far side. Only a few made it through however before the gate deactivated and his fire rained into the stone wall behind it. He lowered his gun cursing...and saw the bodies.

A dull ringing pounded in his ears, but that paled in comparison to what he was feeling. "Ferretti, Kowalski, sound off!"

A number of groans was his answer, followed by gasps and cries as Daniel and the others finally came up behind them. As the newcomers rushed to moaning bodies, Jack's grip tightened on his rifle, "They're going to pay for this…"

"What're you going to do?" Daniel asked.

Jack didn't answer, going over instead to Kowalski, who had only suffered a grazing shot. "You get the address?" He didn't bother with the niceties, and Kowalski didn't mind; they had since come to terms that in some situations; the mission came first and foremost. This was one of them.

"I got it right here, sir." Kowalski pointed to his helmet cam. "Stupid bastards didn't even know." He gave Jack an unhappy look, before adding: "They took Skarra...and Doctor Jackson's wife."

Daniel, to his credit, didn't shout or scream. He just turned and looked at Jack.

"I'm coming back with you." he said firmly.

"Daniel…" Jack began.

"You're going after them." Daniel asked, leveling a stare at his friend. "Don't tell me you aren't. And if you're going after them so am I."

"What about the rest of them?" Jack gestured to the survivors and other gathered Abyodians. "Don't you have a responsibility to them? To take care of them?"

Daniel glanced towards them, most of them were distracted removing the dead and aiding the wounded, but a few were listening intently. Most of them were the teens that had assisted them, now grown up.

To Jack's surprise, Daniel gave him a small, but sad, smile. "You give them too little credit, Jack. They can take care of themselves now, I haven't held their hands for a while."

The former-Colonel considered it. Jackson had proved invaluable with Ra during the expedition, and considering against Ra's 'brother', he would probably prove himself invaluable again. "Alright, you can come with us, but there's no guarantees that they'll let you do what you want."

Daniel just smiled. "I think I can handle myself."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

The return to Earth was not a happy reunion. As soon as Jack stepped through the gate, supporting a wounded Ferretti, he saw Hammond, who was glaring at him.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, as the two limped down the embarkation ramp, followed by a group of SFs carrying their fallen and wounded on collapsible stretchers.

"We were attacked. We'd hardly been there for a couple hours before they came through the gate behind us." Jack said. "Unless they came through Earth, sir, I think this confirms that there are other Stargates out there." At this point, Daniel, still wearing his sand-colored robes, having left without even changing or packing.

"They took Jackson's wife and one of the locals who helped us last time, Skarra." Jack explained before Daniel butted in.

"General with your permission, I'd like to join the search." Hammond glowered at the archaeologist as if he was responsible for the current situation.

"You're not going anywhere mister. Neither of you are. The Stargate is being locked down until further notice. We're not doing anything until we have a plan."

"Well than that might be sooner than we thought." Kowalski said, making his presence known. Tapping his helmet cam, he explained. "I got the gate address that the bastards used when they left, and more than enough for you to see if these people are the same ones that came here, General."

Hammond was to the point of fuming. "Upload the video as soon as you can. If that evidence is there, this is going to be beyond my pay grade. In fact, it'll probably be going straight to the President."

"You do what you have to George." Jack was walking towards the closest door to him. "And I'll do what I have to."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

Teal'c knelt before his 'God'. It had barely been an hour since they had returned from the sand-covered planet with the young man and the woman. In the space of that time, Apophis had presented the first of the dozen or so women he had collected for his mate, Amaunet, to take as host. The woman had been from the world where he had been shot, and Teal'c had seen the mixed fear and defiance in her eyes, even as Apophis killed her after Amaunet declined her as a host.

"There is much to be done Teal'c." Apophis said, leaning forward on his opulent throne, shaped like a serpent and plated with opals and rubies, "My mate must have a host before the end of the week, as must my son, if I am to challenge that whore Mat for the claim to my brother's inheritance."

Teal'c nodded in understanding. "What would you have me do, my lord?" he had a feeling he would not like the answer. Apophis grinned.

"Spread word to the priests. Tell them to instruct the people to pray on my behalf, and tell them to double the ritual tithe. We will require much supplies for the as'trya I have planned. Also, have the Summer Palace prepared for my arrival. Once you have done this, bring me another woman. We will test one each hour, until we find a suitable host."

"It will be as you decree, milord." Teal'c affirmed. As'trya was the period of time during which a goa'uld and their mates would retreat from their affairs for private matters, usually for a time of bonding. Often they were accompanied by great and opulent parties, held in a goa'uld's most luxurious palace. He wanted to sneer on the inside. The doubling of the tithe would cut into the harvest of Chulak's farmers, leaving them with just enough to survive the coming winter, and that was provided nothing went wrong. Not that Apophis cared. From where he stood, the whole planet was expendable.

He prayed that his hastily formed plan had succeeded. Upon arriving upon the desert world, he had immediately noticed that the local populace had resisted with arms similar to those of the he suspected were the Tau'ri. The presence of others with identical weapons only further suggested it. Taking a risk, he had been purposefully been slow in dialing the gate, in the hopes that someone would see symbols, and had taken his time going through the gate, further extending the window.

One of the suspected Tau'ri had appeared just as he was walking through the chappa'ai. The metal projectiles that 'accompanied' him, ironically saved him, when Apophis asked why his First Prime had delayed. He had been forced to fire upon them, in order to ensure his own safe passage.

"May I be dismissed, milord?" Apophis waved him off with a smile. With another bow, Teal'c rose to his feet and left the chamber.

As Teal'c was leaving, Apophis smiled. "Soon, my empire shall rise, strengthened tenfold...and as the age of Ra ends, the age of Apophis shall be born."

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

While the General waited for word from Washington, Daniel negotiated his freedom, after a fashion. Eventually, after convincing the General that he wouldn't run off or spill the beans, he was allowed to leave the mountain and stay with Jack, who had a spare bedroom. However Jack didn't go straight home though. Instead, he decided to, as he phrased it to George, 'Do some of the paperwork for the contract'.

What he failed to mention, was that it was more than just paperwork that he had planned to do. It didn't take him long to reach Gateway Guardians by phone, stopping at the nearest liquor store to use their payphone, as he was pretty sure that by now his cell would be being monitored, and he wanted to keep this meeting discreet.

Hammond was busy in his office, writing letters of condolences for the special forces who had lost their lives on Abydos. The letters joining a stack that he already written for the group of marines that had died in the embarkation room.

The phone next to his desk began to ring, which grabbed his attention. It was late, meaning the only ones who would call him would be on the surface, almost everyone else having gone home. With this in mind, he picked it up, clearing his throat before answering. "Hammond here."

"Sir, its the checkpoint. We've got civilians here, sir."

"Civilians?" Hammond was confused, normally the guard would have just turned them around, not call him. "Then what seems to be problem?"

"They, uh...they have an entourage, sir." The guard replied. "And a few trucks. They say they're from Gateway Guardians, sir. And that O'Neill told them to come here."

Hammond sighed. Pinching his brow, he ordered, "Open up the gate son, and let them in. But keep them on the surface, I'm on my way up." As he planted the phone back on its receiver, Hammond had the feeling that this was just the start of the headaches by O'neill.

It didn't take him _too_ long to reach the surface, but by the time he did, he wished it had taken longer. Entourage was an understatement at just how many 'civilians' had arrived. Several hummers, the civilian variant of the Humvee, were grouped in a long row, lined up neatly on the east end of the mostly-empty underground lot where the facility's employees stored their vehicles while working. At the end of the line, strangely out of place with the large military-styled trucks sitting next to it, was a black sedan with smoked windows. The night-shift personnel were already gathered around the vehicle, actively guarding it One of the front windows had been rolled down, revealing the driver but not the passenger.

Hammond waved towards one of the guards to come over to him. As they approached, he ordered, "Have they said anything about why they were here outside of what they said at the checkpoint?"

"Only one thing, sir." The guard pointed to the sedan, "The driver said that he was part of Gateway Guardians, sir. He added that was all he was allowed to say." Hammond felt his stomach drop, and then felt rage fill the gap. He stalked over to the passenger side window, which slid down smoothly with the sound of tiny motors whirring away.

A man clearly of east asian heritage looked back at him. He was dressed impeccably in what Hammond assumed was a very expensive suit. The most striking feature however, was his face. Three scars ran across the left side of his face, and his eyes...they were those of a veteran.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in right now?" Hammond growled. The man gazed up cooly at George.

"I wasn't aware I was in any. I received a call from a friend informing me the US government wanted to discuss a contract with my company." The still unidentified man pulled out a pipe from his jacket, along with a pouch of tobacco. "I was in the area, so I decided coming in person would be a nice touch." he said, his voice never betraying any emotion.

As the man lit the pipe, many thoughts were racing through the General's mind, yet surprisingly, the one that came to the front of his mind was 'Dear god, O'Neill found someone more aggravating than HE is!'

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

Meanwhile, back at Jack's house, located not far from the mountain, give or take an hour's drive, Jack was pushing open the door to his house, with Daniel right behind him.

"Make yourself comfortable there's beer in the…" Jack trailed off when he remembered that Daniel didn't drink if he could help it. The archeologist apparently heard his train of thought go by and responded.

"No, no it's okay. After what happened today, I think I'd like a drink." He stepped over the threshold and swung the door closed behind him, looking around. His eyes paused on the very unique umbrella stand.

"Jack…" he started.

"Yes, Daniel?" Jack answered.

"You have a scimitar wedged in that umbrella stand...why?" he asked, staring blankly at the thing.

O'neill glanced over the umbrella stand in question, having been there for some time, he had actually forgotten about it.

"Oh, that." he said, "Well after we started making a name for ourselves by helping out in the Middle East, the company attracted the attention of some guys who don't like it when you defuse their roadside bombs. They sent someone to convince me to stop. Unfortunately his argument wasn't as good as my aim with a Glock." He gave a humorless smirk.

"And you kept his sword?" Daniel asked.

"The local sheriff's a friend. He said since it was a pretty clear cut case, I could have it once everything was done and done. So I kept it. Besides, no one felt like trying to pull an Excalibur on the damn thing." O'Neill explained casually. Daniel nodded slowly, then followed Jack into the living room, taking a seat on one of the couches while his friend fetched the beer.

As Jack popped off the cap of his own beer, he asked, "So Daniel, how's the past decade been for you?" He tossed the beer to Daniel, who caught it, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.

"Sorry, gate travel always seems to make my allergies…" he shook his head and popped his own beer cap. "Sorry. But yeah, it's been pretty hot and sandy. Lots of sand." He paused as if at a loss for words, only to simply continue moments later when everything seemed to come together in his head. Jack felt for him. He was probably still in shock and angry at being shut out by the military.

"Anyway, pretty soon after you were gone and they realized they were free, Abydos was theirs for the taking."

"Had a little party did you?" O'Neill asked. Daniel chuckled.

"Oh yeah, big-big party. Yeah, they kind of treated me like their savior. It was...embarrassing."

"It's amazing you turned out so normal." Jack commented sarcastically.

"Well if it wasn't for Sha're, I probably…" he began. Jack winced. It was like prodding an open wound, he had no doubt.

"She was the complete opposite of everyone else. She practically fell on the floor laughing every time I tried to do some chore they all took for granted, like grinding _yuffeta_ flour. I mean, have you ever tried to grind your own flour?" Daniel explained.

"I'm trying to kick the flour thing." Jack answered. Daniel laughed and took a swig of his beer.

"This is going straight to my head. What time is it, anyway? I must have Gate lag or something."

"Daniel, for crying out loud you've had one beer. You're a cheaper date than my wife was."

"Yes, when am I going to meet your wife?" Daniel asked, and Jack heard the hardened edge in his words, which told him he had prodded one time too many.

"Oh, probably never." he sighed, "When I came back from Abydos the first time, she divorced my ass faster than I could blink. We'd already been pushing the breaking point after...anyways, my disappearing for as long as I did, and coming back only to say that 'it's classified'. Well, she just made it legal."

"I'm sorry." Daniel said.

"Yeah, well, so was I. I think in her heart she forgave me for what happened to our kid, she just... couldn't forget."

"And what about you?" Daniel asked, staring at his friend.

"I'm the opposite. I'll never forgive myself. But sometimes I can forget. Sometimes." He sighed, taking a sip of his beer, before returning Daniel's gaze, "So what about you? The way you rushed off makes me think you don't have any little archeologists to go back to." Daniel looked down at his drink.

"We tried." he finally said, "I mean, at first there was no way I could touch her not without feeling guilty. They practically gave her to me as a gift. After we got over that though...we tried Jack. We tried twice. The trouble is, back there, even with everything I taught them, I haven't been able to do much for their medicine. I'm a doctor of archeology, not a surgeon."

He sighed. "Anyways, after the second stillbirth, we decided to stop. Both of them took a lot out of Sha're and I wasn't going to risk trying again. The third time might be the last." O'Neill frowned.

"So what've you been doing while I've been gone?" Daniel finally asked after a long, complicated silence.

"A little of this, of little of that. Retired life mostly." The retired colonel took another swig of his beer. "Tried to rejoin the military after 9/11. Was rejected. Joined up with a private Security Firm: Gateway Guardians instead. They have really good pay."

"What are you talking about, 9/11?" Daniel was confused. "Is this somehow related to that scimitar? I thought that was because of what you did in the Gulf War, now I'm thinking its a lot more recent." Jack wanted to smack himself. Of course Daniel wouldn't know about 9/11. He'd been living in a desert on another planet for over a decade.

"About seven years after we got back, some terrorists hijacked four jetliners midair. They rammed two into the World Trade Center, and crashed a third into the Pentagon. The fourth...well lets just say the word 'Patriot' described all the people onboard." O'Neill explained, "Almost three thousand people died that day. So obviously the entire country was pissed. We traced it back to the Al-Qaeda, the bastards hiding in the Middle East. A lot of them hiding in Iraq, with a little pissant by the name of Saddam Hussein sheltering the big head prick behind it all: Osama Bin Laden. Hell, he actually helped Osama when we were fighting the Soviets there too!"

Daniel stared at Jack in obvious shock. O'Neill didn't blame him. Anyone would be shocked to come home to something like that.

"So America went to war?" Daniel finally asked.

"Oh, yeah. We went to war, big time. Bush, he's the current president by the way, declared war on terrorism. That means until the last of the pricks are dead and buried, this isn't over." Finishing off his beer, he continued, "And it wasn't just us. A whole bunch of our allies got involved. The Brits, Aussies, and a whole bunch of others."

"So, did we get them?"

"Get who?"

"Saddam and Osama?"

Jack sighed. "We got the first, only recently. The second one is still out there, but he's on the run." Tossing his empty beer aside, he added, "He's taunting us. Releases a video every so often to show that he's still alive. But we'll get his ass, no one is going to let this end until he's dead."

"Well, it looks like we've both been given the short stick, huh Jack?" Daniel finally said.

"Yeah...still...could be worse, right" Jack said, and tipped back another beer.

**Stargate: Project Mecha**

General George S. Hammond was not one to be easily perturbed or annoyed. It took either a considerable amount of effort or a personal attack for one to anger him. It had been a hallmark of his career almost, which was why he had been given and retained his command over the Stargate program.

However, One Johnathan J. O'neill had evidently found a way to annoy the man with the minimum amount of effort. Namely in the form of the individual before him. "Don't worry General, O'Neill is much smarter than he lets on. It's why I hired him in the first place after all." The person in question tried to allay.

Enter Hadrian Chosun, CEO, Founder and Owner of Gateway Guardians. And Jack's boss. Both him and the General were still on the surface, but in a small area established for such meetings. Hammond had assumed that O'neill had informed the CEO about the Stargate Program, and had fully intended on arresting him. Only to find out that it had not been the case. O'neill had only told Hadrian that there was the opportunity for a very lucrative and long lasting contract with the US Military.

"So, General, just what is this contract that O'neill told me about?" Hadrian leaned back in his chair. "He mentioned that he had already been completed a job based on the promise of this contract."

"Before we begin discussing this contract, which I am not even sure if I am authorized to do, do you have a security clearance with the US Military?" Hadrian didn't answer verbally, instead he reached into his jacket before pulling out a small ID tag and handing it to the General.

Hammond wasn't sure just what Hadrian was up to, but took the tag and read it. The man's face was there, and it seemed to be government issued. Only for his eyebrows rise and try to disappear into his nonexistent hair at the three words on the bottom. "How did you-"

"It's a long story." Hadrian cut off, taking back the tag and putting it away. "But unless there is something I am not aware of, I think you can inform me of just what O'neill was talking about."

Hammond contemplated his choices. The man before him had the clearance to be brought into NORAD already. If he had him thrown out it could prove to be a source of even more trouble later on. Eventually he made up his mind. Best to bite the bullet and get him educated…

"Come with me, I'll bring you up to speed, but it'll be easier to just show you." Taking a moment to gesture to the 'entourage' that had accompanied the CEO, added, "Unless there is anyone else with similar clearance, they will have to stay here. As well as any arms you may be carrying."

The CEO submitted without any protest, going so far as to remove a pistol that the general hadn't noticed from his jacket. "Understandable. And no, none of them do quite yet."

Hammond eyed the pistol until an SF standing bay the door collected it, along with the clip that Hadrian proceeded to place beside it, placing both in a large plastic tub after zipping them up in a plastic bag. Then Hammond rose.

"This way." he instructed, leading the CEO out of the room and down the hall to the very large and durable-looking elevator at the end. Once inside, he swiped his ID in the elevator's reader and used a key in his pocket to unlock a separate panel of buttons, which had lit up when he had used the card. The panel was there to ensure information security, deceiving any people not authorized to know about the SGC into thinking that the NORAD levels were all there was.

Hadrian gave a low whistle at the sight. "Hidden levels? Just what are you people up to down here?" Hammond didn't give an answer, instead just pressing one of the buttons. The elevator shuddered for a second before it began its descent.

As the numbers kept increasing, or decreasing as it were, Hadrian's eyes widening with every level they went down. Hammond didn't miss how the CEO grew tenser with every level they went down. When at last they stopped, Hammond stepped out into the tubular hall beyond, not looking back as he began to explain.

"In 1928, a group of archeologists discovered an alien device on a dig at Giza. It was brought to the U.S. under a cloak of absolute secrecy. It spent a lot of time in a warehouse, but back in 1996, another archeologist, Doctor Daniel Jackson, worked out that it was a mean of transportation."

"What, it took you that long to work out it was a space-ship?" Hadrian said. Hammond looked back over his shoulder as they turned the corner. He was marginally surprised, at how the man had reacted to the information, but then O'Neill had been much the same.

"I said transportation, not space-ship." Hammond said, "Doctor Jackson also worked out how to use it." He ascended the stairs up to the control room, then stood aside as the CEO followed, his eyes widening further at the sight of the huge stone ring beyond the main window.

"What...the...hell…"

"Welcome, Mr. Chosun, to the Stargate Program."

"In their pain and anguish, many tend to lose sight of the fact that even amongst one's enemies, there are sometimes people who are just people that have been swept up in the conflict. I have not. And it is one of the principles that my company is based on. Whether it is simply a fool's gambit is yet to be seen, but I will hold on it for as long as I can."

-Excerpt from Interview with Mr. Chosun, CEO and Founder of Gateway Guardians, regarding how many see his company as 'overly idealistic'.


	4. Ch 3: Children of the Gods Part 1

Stargate Project: Mecha

Chapter 3

Children of the Gods Part 1

"A shot in the dark. That's what went through my head when I saw my best people walk through the Stargate. A damn shot in the dark. We didn't know what was going to happen, or what was on the otherside. We only knew that we couldn't let what happened go unanswered. And perhaps...that's what saved us in the end."

-Hadrian Chosun, in regards to the Stargate and its Program as a whole.

More ash joined a growing pile in the ashtray as Hadrian emptied his pipe yet again. "Well General, I understand why you asked to see if I had any security clearance. I would have done the same in your position." The CEO tapped his pipe against his palm, "But admittedly, this leaves us in a bit of a quandary."

"What do you mean by that?" Hammond was genuinely unsure of what Hadrian meant. In his eyes, the solution was quite simple. "Is it not just a matter of writing up a contract for employing the services of three of your men?"

Hadrian shook his head. "Quite honestly, I almost wish that it was that simple. I really do, but it's not." He sighed as he pulled out his tobacco pouch again. "If it was just one of them, maybe two, I can wrangle it all three of them, its quite impossible."

"Explain." Hammond wasn't liking the way this was going.

"Look, those three, they are basically the face of my company. They are too well known." Hadrian tapped the table for emphasis. "The fact of the matter is, that if they were to disappear, people would begin to ask me and my company questions. Even if the three were to show that they were alive and well, it wouldn't help."

"Surely you can just handle a few uncomfortable questions?"

"And how long until they begin to asking people with power to look into it?" Hadrian retorted. "Until they begin asking politicians, lobbyists, and the like into looking for answers?"

Hammond bit back a retort. He knew all too well the power that the people possessed when they worked together for a single goal. The masses often forgot just how much power they held together. Even the most selfish of politicians would submit to the masses if they threatened to vote them out of office. "What about removing them from your company?"

"And risk a bigger shit storm? Even if I created a believable bullshit story that painted O'neill as the bad guy, no one would believe it. And it's not just the home crowd that would be the issue. The man has an international fanbase to his ignorance."

Hammond sighed impatiently as each and every one of his suggestions was shot down. While some of the CEO's arguments seemed to make sense, others almost seemed to be grasping at straws but he could see the logic behind them, if barely. "What do you suggest then, since you seem to be adamant in that this is far more complicated that what I see it to be."

Hadrian took a deep breath. "The answer is actually simpler you think, but more complicated as well." In truth, several of the general's suggestions could have worked, had it not required all three of the men in question. "We involve as many men and women from my company that we can trust with the secret of the Stargate." Hammond all but started glaring at Hadrian at the suggestion, but Hadrian wasn't fazed by it. If he was honest with himself, he just didn't like the idea of what he felt was abandoning the three men who had done so much for his company. Hell, if it wasn't for them, there might not even be a company. Holding up a hand to stop the General from protesting. "Please, let me explain. Aside from bolstering your program, those who are brought into the fold can serve as alibis. They can all simply claim that they were sent to a secret training facility or some other such story."

"And just what, makes you think that I will allow so many civilians, even those part of a paramilitary organization, access to a top secret operation?"

"Because General, you quite simply have no choice." Hammond was about to say just what he thought of that statement but Hadrian beat him to the punch. "I mean that quite literally. You have no choice. We can write a statement regarding the job my men took under your orders, but if refuse my suggestion, my company will simply take this up with your superiors and negotiate with them instead. You can't do this without my men, and we both know this." In reality, Hadrian was bluffing, after all, he had no control over the lynchpin of his entire declaration: O'neill himself. He could simply chose to leave the company and rejoin the US military, but he was playing on Jack's loyalty. "And should you choose to simply cut my company out of it, and take my people for yourself, I assure you, that the international community will learn of just where they went. And I don't think the United States military is quite ready for another inquire of that magnitude."

Despite his words, a contingency plan was already forming in Hadrian's mind for such an event, outside of the threat he had just declared. Though, considering the way the general's face was constantly swapping between grimacing and frowning, he probably wouldn't need it.

"Well then, General, what is your decision?"

**Project Mecha**

"So...which of us is going in first?" Kowalski and Ferretti were standing outside the doors to Jack's home, neither of the two wanting to go in first.

"Hey, I kept your woman from tearing your ass to pieces when we went over to your place earlier."

"For which I'm forever grateful, but I still ain't going in first."

"Oh don't be like that-" Kowalsky began, before the door was opened by a very sober looking Jack O'Neill. He looked them up and down.

"Hiya fellas." he said.

"Hey Jack." Ferretti answered, "Guess what?"

"Don't tell me," Jack said, "Hammond went for it?" The two men's eyebrows went up.

"How did you know?" Ferretti asked.

"Who do you think called the big man?" Jack grunted. From the other side of the house there was the sound of someone being violently sick. Kowalsky peered theatrically over Jack's shoulder.

"Something wrong with the Doc?" he asked.

"Hangover." O'Neill summarized.

"Oh, god, I feel like I just threw up everything in the past decade!" Daniel shouted.

"Don't worry Doc! It gets better!" Ferretti called was a groan.

"So now what?" Jack asked, opening the door wider to allow his friends in.

"Well we're supposed to meet with the General and the big man down at the mountain in about three hours, and the Doc's supposed to be there too. They want to discuss what to do next. Apparently Hammond had a midnight phone conference with the boys in Washington, and they drew up a plan."

One of Jack's eyebrows rose, almost disappearing into his hairline."Umm, I only called the boss yesterday. And last I checked the Stargate is 'Top Secret'." Ferretti just shrugged. "Guess even the big guy has a few secrets of his own then."

"What,like a private super-sonic jet? The main office is in Cali!" O'Neill griped. Again, Ferretti and Kowalsky shrugged. He sighed.

"Alright, let me just get get Jackson cleaned up. Gimme half an hour." he said. Another heaving noise from the direction of the master bathroom caused him to wince.

"Forty-five minutes." he amended.

**Stargate Project: Mecha**

The drive to Cheyenne was as uneventful as it had been the previous night. Of course, the arrival was quite different however, seeing as several Gateway-branded Hummers had taken up parking spaces near the entrance. O'Neill recognized the car at the end of the line of vehicles. The boss liked his transportation to look officious. As he got out, he came face to face with one of his subordinates, a squad commander he was very familiar with, having helped train him himself.

"Jameson? What are you doing here?" O'neill demanded. "You're supposed to be training the new guys at the Virginia offices!"

"Hello to you too, sir." The now identified Jameson gave a relaxed salute. "I got transferred over to California a week ago. The boss wanted me to help start up a new training base in Montana."

"If you're here, then who else is here?" O'Neill asked, facepalming at how he was apparently out of the loop regarding one of his more favorite subordinates. "Tracey? Felipe? Johns? Are they here too?"

Jameson just gave him a blank stare. "Uh...should I start wearing a tin foil helmet sir?" he asked worriedly, suspecting the former colonel had somehow read his mind. It was very stressful when senior officers did that. Jack gave him an annoyed look.

"No. Now where does Hammond want us?" he asked. Getting another blank look, he added, "The big balding guy, probably went with the boss."

"Oh, right. He said to send you to the briefing room on level twenty-seven." Jameson said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the nearest elevator. There was a grouchy SF standing nearby, who did not look pleased at all with his line of work. O'Neill gave him his most winning smile, but it didn't penetrate the steel-armored glare. Shrugging, he stepped into the conveyance as it opened to release a couple of technical sergeants, flashing his temporary badge at the SF in case he decided to harass him for being in civilian garb. Upon seeing this, the SF stuck out a hand with some keys in it. O'Neill stared at the keys blankly.

"For the elevator." he explained tersely.

"Ah." Jack replied, taking the keys.

As they entered the elevator, Jameson added, "By the way, the boss wanted me to tell you, and I quote, 'You volunteered for this Jack. You're not getting any hazard pay for this.' "

"D'oh." Jack muttered quietly as the doors slid closed.

After a few seconds of fiddling with the keys, he worked out the location of the secret buttons, then swiped his pass to clear it for operation. Then it was just a matter of waiting while the elevator descended. Daniel,who had been silent throughout the exchange with Jameson, stood next to him quietly.

"So is your job like this a lot?" he finally asked, getting tired of the silence.

"Nah. Mostly it's desk jockeying." O'Neill said, remembering fondly the days when he and the rest of his team had been all about fieldwork instead of paperwork. "Most of the people up top, they were the first ones we trained to be our replacements. Good people, most of them. Just...needed a bit of humility."

"They all still gripe that they still have the bruises from when we kicked their asses." Kowalsky added as the elevator doors opened. Apparently he had been waiting and had heard the last half of O'Neill's statement. Jack grinned. Both he and Ferretti had gone ahead of the former Colonel and Jackson to Cheyenne.

"Well, you know what they say:" he chuckled, "What goes around, comes around." Kowalsky laughed. They'd both given the recruits nothing less than what they'd received at their age and rank. They'd worked on the edge, and knew it was no place for people who break, so they'd made damn sure none of their future subordinates were the kind of people to be brittle.

They kept talking about the people they had trained, and in several cases retrained, until they at last reached the briefing room, where silence reigned. Jack resisted the urge to salute, given he was now in the presence of a man who would've been his superior had he still been in the military and another man who was his superior.

He didn't however, resist the urge to scrunch his nose and grimace at the smell of burnt cavendish tobacco however. Despite it smeller far lesser acrid than cigarettes, it always bothered him. Jackson however, started coughing immediately as he stepped in the room, "Oh god, what is tha-" he began, then saw the man at the table with the ice blue eyes and the smoking pipe. "Oh." he finished lamely.

"Doctor Jackson, I presume?" He extended a hand towards the doctor.

"Uh, yes. I am." He took the offered hand, shaking it. "But if you don't mind me asking, who are you? And isn't a bunker supposed to be a no-smoking area?"

Hadrian just smiled. "Hadrian Chosun, founder of Gateway Guardians, and boss of the grizzled relic behind you." He added good-heartedly, no real vitriol in his words. "As for the no-smoking, I'll pay the fines. Being a multi-millionaire helps with the bills." Letting go, the CEO continued, "I've heard a lot about you, Doctor. I found it especially amusing how it took you a few weeks to solve what an entire team had been trying to solve for several years."

"Yes, well...umm..." Jackson said, looking slightly embarrassed by how offhandedly he had dismissed the ones who started the original Stargate Program while praising him at the same time. "Uh, they said something about you wanting both me and O'Neill for something?"

"Yes, actually." Pulling out a pen, Hadrian asked, "Doctor Jackson, how would you like a job working for my company?"

"Wait, seriously?" the archaeologist asked, suddenly flustered.

"Well yes. You see, I know you were probably thinking of signing on with the Air Force, but according to their rules, civilian advisors don't go out in the field, and after hearing about what happened to your wife, well I thought to myself;'That man's not going to settle for a desk job while his wife's in the hands of evil aliens, even if he is just an archeologist.'." Glancing over at O'Neill, he added, "And besides, I think my best man would be lost if you weren't there to hold his hand and bring him home."

Daniel looked over at General Hammond, who actually looked rather pleased. Daniel hadn't known him more than a few hours, but he got the feeling that the General wouldn't have been happy holding him back in any case. That was fine by Daniel. He had come back to Earth with the sole intent of doing whatever it took to get Sha're back, and had come into the room expecting to have to fight the military bureaucracy for the right to do so.

Taking the pen, he just asked, "Where do I sign?"

**Project: Mecha**

"As you may know, I had a meeting the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Presidents regarding the Stargate and these strangers." Hammond started. "There is a considerable desire to simply shut down and seal the Stargate, and hope the previous incident will be the last."

"But sir!" Carter all but leapt out of her seat, "You can't be serious! From the first expedition's reports alone, the potential technological assets we could bring back are incredible. Let alone the other resources and potentially friendly races we might discover."

"Yeah, and I don't think that burying our heads in the sand is going work this time around." O'Neill added. "Hammond, I knew people like the Joint Chiefs when I was in boot, they know that just ignoring the enemy is the worst thing we could do." What he didn't add was the fact that he felt that he had to repay the debt to Skarra. He had saved his life several times before on Abydos. It was long since due for him to return the favor.

"Well then, you'll be happy to know that the President and the majority of the Joint Chiefs actually agree with you." Hammond replied. "On the condition the theory that other gates do exist pans out, he has allowed the formation of, for now, thirteen teams whose duties will be to perform reconnaissance, determine threats and if possible, to make peaceful contact with the peoples of these worlds. Now, these teams will operate on a covert, top-secret basis. No one will know of their existence except the President, the Joint Chiefs and those authorized from Gateway."

"This is where we come in." Hadrian said, looking over at O'Neill, "Jack, you'll lead the flagship team by contractual arrangement. Your designation will be SG-1, and your crew will consisted of Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson for now. We'll discuss who else to add later. Kowalsky, Ferretti, you're getting command of SG-2 and 3 respectively." Before they could ask any questions, "Yes, I have your favorite squads, Excalibur and Damocles, with me. They'll be under your command, and they've been brought up to speed."

"Now before we go further, I want to clear something up. There wasn't time for a proper briefing yesterday, but now that you're here Colonel, my superiors want to know what we know about these new invaders that we didn't know before your mission?" Hammond asked.

"Well to be honest, sir, not a whole hell of a lot. Most of the Abydonians who survived the attack on the base camp thought it was Ra though."

"But you told us he was killed." Hammond said, confused.

"Oh he's definitely dead, sir. I mean, the bomb…" Daniel said, before glancing over at Jack, "He is dead, right?"

"Then who's coming through the Stargate?"

"I think I might have answer as to just who attacked both of our people sir." Hammond and Hadrian just gave him a look that said, 'continue'. "Right well, if we decide to believe that the Ra on Abydos was the Ra in Egyptian mythology, or at least that he took that role from Egyptian mythology and used it to enslave the inhabitants of Egypt at the time, then would it too much a stretch to assume that all the other 'gods' in his 'family' were actually people as well? His 'siblings' and 'children', as it were?"

"Are you telling me...that there might be a hundred like Ra just roaming the galaxy, like it's their playground?" Hammond asked, Daniel just nodded helplessly. "God help us all."

"I hate to add more bad news to this mess," Hadrian interrupted, "But I just had a thought. If the Egyptian Gods were these aliens, just how many other deities are as well? I mean, I know a lot of archeological professors, no offense Doctor Jackson, like to debunk the idea of alien involvement in ancient history because they think it's like saying our ancestors were too stupid to work things out for themselves, but now that we have definitive proof...how far does the conspiracy go?"

Silence permeated the room at the unsettling thought. Even if just a fraction of all the deities in Earth's mythology were simply aliens like Ra, that still meant that potentially hundreds, if not thousands or tens of thousands of enemies of Earth were flying around the galaxy, and more than willing to take Earth by whatever means necessary, if it was such a prize in the past, how could it be anything less now?

"Wait, actually, I think I can narrow it down further." Daniel said suddenly, looking up from the folder he and everyone else had been handed copies of, "You said the soldiers had helmets like snakes, right?"

"The Gate room recordings show that, yes."Hammond stated.

"It's probably Apophis then. I mean, Ra's brother. Ra ruled the day while Apophis ruled the night. He's classically represented as a man with a serpent's head. Ra's guards all wore big headdresses that made them look like eagles. It's only logical his brother would pattern his soldiers' armor in the same fashion."

"Great, so we're fighting the devil?" Hadrian grumbled. "Where are my silver bullets when I need them…"

"Well actually no, Apophis was rarely related to death or the afterlife, and he wasn't generally considered evil, or at least no more evil than Ra. If you want to extend the metaphor though, I think So-" Daniel began to say, before Hadrian held up a hand.

"Thank you, Doctor but I don't think I want to know." he said. "We know who the enemy is, and we know where they went." Focusing on Hammond, he continued, "General, I strongly suggest that we send our men through as quickly as possible. I recall more than a few lives that were lost because people did not act quickly and decisively."

The General began feeling like a cornered animal as every eye in the room suddenly focused on him, eagerly awaiting his decision. So far, they all trusted him, as he had not done anything to break that trust. And they were more than eager to go through the gate. For doctor Jackson and O'Neill this was nothing less than a rescue mission. For Carter, it was a chance to explore the galaxy beyond. And the rest, well...they wanted to show just why it was a piss-poor idea to attack Earth.

Looking O'Neill straight in the eye, he said four words. "You have a go."

**Project Mecha**

The next few hours were crowded with gathering arms and preparing for the expedition to the new and unknown world. Ten men from the force that had arrived earlier with Hadrian were called down from the surface, Excalibur and Damocles Squads, two of the best of Gateway's problem-solving parties.

There was a noticeable divide in the Embarkation room, between those of Gateway and the Special Forces. Not just in gear, of which the former seemed to be a cut above their government counterparts but the way that neither seemed willing to interact with the others.

"So, we're making a career out of this then?" Kowalsky asked.

"Looks like it." O'Neill glanced over the gathered forces, "Still, it'll be pointless if we can't get this band to work together."

"Why don't you just give them an inspirational speech?" Ferretti grinned. "That might work." The grin quickly faded as O'Neill grinned himself. "Oh no...he's actually going to do it…"

Climbing the ramp to the Stargate, O'Neill stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, grabbing everyone's attention. "Alright, listen up! You've all been brought up to speed on what this giant thing behind me is, and what happened ten years ago. What you don't know is where we're going." Gesturing to the head of SG-2, he continued, "Kowalsky saw the gate coordinates, which means we know where to look first. Presuming we don't come under attack the moment we step through, we'll need the means to secure a beach-head, or at least enough of an area to secure the Stargate for reinforcements." He glared down at the two parties.

"If we're going to survive the next few hours we're going to need to work together. That means if one of your squadmates goes down, you don't check who's paying his salary first before helping him up. We're in this to defend the planet, not to get paid."

"We are?" Kowalsky murmured, just loud enough that Jack would hear it and give him an annoyed glare.

"Anything to add, sergeant?" he growled. Kowalsky decided to support Jack with some friendliness. If he could help him get the SFs and his own people off their high horses, it would serve them all the better in the long run.

"Looking forward to plugging some snake-headed alien bastards, sir!" Jack's glare cracked and a small grin showed through, meaning he had succeeded.

"Damn straight!" he said, before holding up a small device like a watch, "Now listen up! Your team leaders will all get one of these! For the sake of simplicity, we're calling them GDOs,or Garage Door Openers. Once we go through, these are the only way we get home. When we make our retreat, the ranking officer, which is me, and provided I'm still breathin, will punch in the code. If I'm dead, the job goes to the next in line. Do NOT step through before the code is put in, because if you do, you will end up splattered all over the inside of this!" He pointed behind himself, and nodded to the technical sergeant manning the console in the control room. Getting the message, he activated the iris, a new system that had barely finished being installed before the end of the briefing earlier. As it slid closed, several of the SFs and Jack's team flinched back. Jackson nearly jumped out of his skin.

"This," Jack stated, banging against the metal barrier with his hand, "is an iris. Anything that tries coming through the gate with this thing closed, is going to get turned into a stain so thin there won't be anything to bury." He glanced down at his watch, then looked back at the two groups. "We have twenty-four hours to do what we have to, after which they'll lock out our codes and seal this thing permanently. This is our first run. We fail this one, there's not going to be any trying again." Looking at all those gathered around him, he saw that the message had sunk in. They all had to be at their best and be the best. Nothing else could or would be accepted. "Any questions?"

"Sir, what are the rules of engagement?"

"For now, you are allowed to return fire, if you are fired upon. However, due to the nature of this assignment, the rest will be determined during the mission. Understood?"

As a single voice, all those present, barring Jackson, chorused, "SIR, YES SIR!"

Jack just smiled at the singular response. That was the challenge of getting the paramilitary and military groups to work together. Looking upwards at the command room overlooking the Stargate, he shouted, "Hammond! Dial the Gate!"

**Project: Mecha**

In another part of the galaxy, on the world of Chulak, it was another day on the agrarian world. The bounties and sacrifice Apophis had demanded were piled high as a ceremonial procession prepared to take it through the chappa'ai. Meanwhile, their destination was left unguarded. Everyone knew this was Apophis' stronghold. His great ships patrolled the skies, discouraging any invaders by Stargate. Not even a Goa'uld as mad as Lord Yu would attempt to attack this place unless he had a full fleet backing him. Resultingly, when SGs 1, 2 and 3 were spat out of the Gate like half-defrosted steaks, there was nobody to greet them. As Jack picked himself up, shaking off the frost of his sudden reintegration, he felt the cold wind hit him like a door. He immediately cupped two hands together and rubbed them to keep them warm. It must be late autumn wherever they were...

"Alright, everyone up and off their ass. Kowalski, I want your teams to set up a perimeter!" He took a look around the area, "Keep your distance from that treeline."

"Claymores and Betties, Sir?" Kowalski asked, not realizing Carter has been about to approach Jack with the very same idea. "Up along that ridgeline, you think?"

"Claymores, yes. But place the betties up at the top and bottom of it." Kowalski gave a salute before motioning to his own men to follow. "Ferretti, take your team, scout out the immediate area, see if you can find anything."

"On it, sir."

Jack looked around at everyone looking for Jackson. Only to see him at the dialing device, already standing and apparently fine. Jack's already considerable respect for him went up a few notches, considering several of the SFs were still trying to keep themselves from dry heaving. Walking up to the former dead man, asked, "Think you can figure out a way to get us home?"

"I think so, the symbols are a similiar to the ones on Abydos but-"

Jack slapped Daniel's shoulder before he could continue, "Good enough for me." Daniel looked as if he was about to add something, then shut his mouth and shrugged. That was when Jack knew this was not the same jumpy scientist he had left behind on Abydos ten years ago. He'd been blind to it somehow, but the way in which Daniel had simply accepted the responsibility of his job so readily stood in stark contrast to the nervous man who Kowalsky once had threatened to pulverize if he couldn't get them home back on Abydos the first time.

O'neill's radio crackled, "Sir, it's Ferretti, we found what looks like a footpath. Lots of heavy traffic coming through here. Some of it looks recent too."

"How long?"

"Twelve hours, maybe less."

"Understood," Jack checked the dial before clicking it on. "Kowalski, you heard that?"

"Yeah, we did. Meat-grinder's ready, with 10-meter intervals." An evil grin stretched across Jack's face, while many of the Special Forces grimaced. They had heard of Gateway's so called 'Grinder Betty', a Bouncing Betty Anti-Personnel mine that just barely fell short of the violation of human rights. "Want us to link up with him?"

"Affirmative. SG-2 and SG-3 are to rendezvous with Ferretti's team. You find a place to set up a basecamp. SG-1 will head on up the path and see what we can see. If we're not back in twenty-four hours-" O'Neill began to say.

"We'll come and rescue your sorry asses." Kowalsky said, grinning.

"Negative." Jack corrected, checking his watch, "You go back through the Gate with the combination Jackson's going to give you before we head out, and you tell Hammond what happened. Then you come back and save our asses."

"Ah, right." Kowalsky replied. It was a more sensible course of action that the one he had had planned, which involved storming up the path and dragging Jack back while firing back in the other direction with his rifle in one hand. Cheekily he added, "Get me a T-shirt while you're at it."

Rolling his eyes since he couldn't hit the man, Jack looked at his squad and ordered, "SG-1, lets move out!"

**Project: Mecha**

Back on Earth, those of power within Cheyenne mountain were forced to sit idly as they watched the clock tick the seconds away for the three SG teams. There was little else that any of them could do otherwise.

Well...all but one that is.

Hadrian Chosun was rarely one to sit around idly if he could help it. When the pipe-smoking CEO had asked if he could call someone on the surface, Hammond had been hesitant to allow it. But Hadrian was not just an effective businessman, but a charismatic one as well. He knew how to persuade those around him to get his way.

Which was Hammond, as reluctant he was, gave his permission to the CEO, with the obvious condition that he was allowed to listen to ensure that he did not share any information regarding the Stargate Program.

Now though, he found himself regretting more and more that he ever brought O'Neill back to the Stargate in the first place. As the conversation dragged on, despite it not revealing any state secrets, Hammond found it increasingly disconcerting.

Hadrian tapped his empty pipe against his palm as he held the phone against his head with his shoulder."Yeah, pull out the plans for the TG, Icarus and the Jorgumand. Yeah, I know, just trust me. No, it's not an Amnesia Scenario." Much of the conversation, the one side that Hammond could listen to at any rate, had gone in this fashion from the start. Cryptic terms and phrases that Hammond didn't understand, but didn't like what he did. "Have your people start bringing the plans up to spec, it's been a while since the three of us actually worked on them. No, I won't tell you a way to solve the problem, I'm still not sure if one exists. Just trust me on this."

TG could reference anything, but Icarus and Jorgumand were more foreboding. Jorgumand, if he recalled correctly, as some sort of deity. While Icarus was the son of Daedalus who had flown too close to the sun.

"Yeah, we should probably call them up as well. They'd kill us if they learned that I didn't tell them to get ready at the very least." Hammond was surprised when Hadrian actually shuddered. "Don't remind me…No, leave their alo-actually, bring theirs up to. Might as well get all four done right?" The more Hammond heard, the more he was regretting allowing this call, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was going to happen anyways. Least this way, he had some knowledge about it. "Alright, I'll meet you in the Bunker."

As Hadrian finally ended the call, Hammond asked, "While I appreciate you not revealing any classified information, do you mind telling me who that was?"

"Let's just say that he's my brother, and leave it at that." Hadrian looked at his pipe again, as though contemplating if he should refill it or not. To Hammond's relief, he didn't, and just put the piece away in a coat pocket. "As for why I called him, well...Actually, General, I have a question for you: do you think that this will be the end of it?"

Hammond quirked an eyebrow at the asian CEO. "What exactly do you mean?" He had a feeling that he knew just what Hadrian meant. And he didn't like it. "Are you referring to the Stargate?"

Hadrian nodded. "Tell me, do honestly believe that, should our teams return, with all their objectives accomplished, that it will mean the end of things?" He didn't allow Hammond to respond, the look on his face said it all. "This isn't going to end today, nor will it anytime soon. No, I think we're just getting started."

"You still haven't answered my question; why did you feel the need to call your brother?"

"Because General, I have feeling that this is only the beginning. And that we are now a part of history. As the first witnesses to the beginning of a new era, and more importantly, a new War." Little did either of the two realize just how prophetic those words would prove to be, in the many years to come.

**Project: Mecha**

"Well Daniel, I got to say. If this what we can expect for you to get us everytime we go a new planet, I'll make sure the boss keeps you on permanently." O'Neill joked with the A short while ago, Jack, Carter and Sam had run into an entourage of local priests, or what passed for their priests in their culture, whatever it might have been.

Daniel had spoken with the priests, in a language that Jack didn't understand, but it sounded similar to the language Ra had used before his demise. Putting his faith in the archeologist, he had keep his weapon lowered and followed the priests, prompting Carter to do the same.

The priests leading them to a massive stone temple, or at least, the SG-team assumed it was a temple, and bringing them inside. The priests had lead them to a large room where other strangers were already gathered around a large table that was covered in a massive spread of food and drink, all of which, none of the earthlings recognized.

"Uh, sir?" Carter's voice was laced with a touch of nervousness. "You think that it's safe to eat this?" She eyed the spread that dominated the table, slowly moving to include the other...people, she wasn't quite sure if they really were human, despite appearances, apparently happily partaking in the feast before them.

"I say lets not risk it." Jack warily eyed the food himself, so of which was being offered to him. "Daniel, is this a repeat of what you did on Abydos?"

The former archaeologist, who had just picked off a piece of..something, from an offered trade paused. "You meant that they think we're gods?" O'Neill just gave him a flat look in response. "Well yes, I mean, clearly they haven't seen anyone like us, and able to speak the alien's dialect, they assumed as much."

"Well lets just hope it doesn't end with one of us getting married this time." O'Neill cracked. Carter, who was shocked at the comment, was about to ask just what the former colonel meant when they hear the unmistakable sound of marching. A familiar sound to two of the SG team members. "Daniel…" Jack pressed a hand down on his friend to keep him from doing anything rash.

As the marching became louder, the sources behind the noise finally appeared. Serpent-Warriors came into view, marching in two columns. As they entered, the halted. Turning on their heels to face each other: an Honor Guard formation. Another armored alien, this one with a gold symbol etched onto his forehead stepped before everyone.

Jack didn't understand anything the dark skinned alien said, nor did he really care. All he focused on was the staff in the man's hand, and the symbol on his forehead. His hand reached over to his G3A3, subtly he flicked off the safety. He looked over to Carter, smirking inside as he saw that the Air Force Captain had done the same with her SCAR-H.

But his smirk quickly turned to dread as he saw just who the Honor Guard was for. The man who had attacked Earth, and Sha're.

"Shit."

A/N: (Follower38) For now, consider this version to be the alpha of chapter 3. I had to do much of the last two scenes on my own because circumstances kept my co-writer away. Real-life takes priority over writing as always. Please, leave me a review and tell me what you think. Also, for those of you who wish to submit mech designs in the future, I do have a template to send to you. No promises which designs will be accepted if any. Only limitation is keeping the design and technologies related at least someone feasible and potentially showing up in the SG-universe. If you are unsure about the technology, message me and I will give you an answer.

This is Follower38, signing-off.


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